


If You Won't Look Down, I Won't Look Back

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dropping out of Yale was the easy part. After one full year, Clarke decided the Ivy life just wasn’t for her. She missed her home and her friends. She missed her freedom. As long as she was at Yale, pursuing a pre-med degree, she wasn’t living her own life. She was living the life that her mother wanted for her.</p><p>That was the hard part: Telling her mother that she would not be going back to Connecticut when the summer ended. </p><p>She found a waitressing job with Raven’s help. Jasper and Monty told her she could crash on their couch until she found something more sustainable. And she started her life. It wasn’t perfect and it wouldn’t be easy, but she was happy. She was surrounded by the people she loved and needed and she’d go back to school when she wanted to. That was, if she wanted to go back at all.</p><p>And that was the beauty of it all. It was all on her own terms. The choice was hers. Her life, at last, was hers. And it was everything she ever wanted.</p><p>Until she met Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an episode of the podcast _Modern Love_ (which is amazing) called "Friends Without Benefits." This story turned into much more of a restaurant/friendship based fic than purely a bellarke fic and I'm okay with that. I'm excited to continue it that way. But, bellarke is there, as always.

Dropping out of Yale was the easy part. After one full year, Clarke decided the Ivy life just wasn’t for her. She missed her home and her friends. She missed her freedom. As long as she was at Yale, pursuing a pre-med degree, she wasn’t living her own life. She was living the life that _her mother_ wanted for her.

That was the hard part: Telling her mother that she would not be going back to Connecticut when the summer ended. Instead, she would be staying right where she should have been all along—home.

Well, not home, exactly, because her mother told her that she either had to go back to Yale in September or get a job and get out of the house. So, Clarke chose the latter.

She found a waitressing job with Raven’s help. Jasper and Monty told her she could crash on their couch until she found something more sustainable. And she started her life. It wasn’t perfect and it wouldn’t be easy, but she was happy. She was surrounded by the people she loved and needed and she’d go back to school when _she_ wanted to. That was, if she wanted to go back at all.

And that was the beauty of it all. It was all on her own terms. The choice was hers. Her life, at last, was _hers_. And it was everything she ever wanted.

Until she met Bellamy Blake.

He was a few years older than her and she’d actually known _of_ him most of her high school career, but she never actually met him until she started working at Polaris. He was the surly, yet undeniably gorgeous bartender who knew how to turn on the charm for tips. She was the new waitress, always asking questions because she wanted to get everything right. Bellamy had no patience for questions. Clarke had no patience for mistakes.

They butted heads very early on.

“Just tell me what’s in a gin fizz, because this lady in my section wants to know,” Clarke begged for the third time in as many minutes. “And I told her I would ask the bartender for her, which already makes me look like an idiot, so could you _please_ just tell me?”

Bellamy smirked at that, happy that anything made her look like an idiot. It had only been one hour into her first training shift when Raven spilled the beans that Clarke had left Yale to become a waitress. Most people at the restaurant didn’t give two shits who came from where. Bellamy, though, had very loud opinions about Clarke’s life choices.

“It’s not as easy as you thought it would be, is it, Princess?” he asked, still smirking, and her lips fell into a flat line. The nickname fell out of his mouth so easily on her second day and it just seemed to stick. “Not as easy as Yale, right?”

The way he said Yale was akin to the way most people said prison or the DMV. He spit the word out with venom every single time. 

“Bellamy,” she said, as straight faced as possible, “please.”

He considered her for a few more seconds before sighing and standing up straight, no doubt so he could physically look down on her when he spoke. “Gin, club soda, lemon juice, simple syrup, and some egg white,” he answered and Clarke cringed.

“ _Egg white_?” she asked, trying not to gag. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Hey,” he said, leaning over the bar, getting closer to her face than he’d ever been before. It was disarming. “You tip me out at the end of our shifts, so if you go over there with the wrong ingredients and she finds out, you don’t get tipped. And if you don’t get tipped, I don’t get tipped. I don’t fuck around when it comes to money. We can’t all just go back to Yale and mommy whenever we want.”

“You’re a fucking dick,” she spat at him and he plastered on a fake smile.

“At your service, Princess.”

She flipped him off out of view from the customers and went back to her table and Dr. Tsing who was asking about the gross drink in the first place. She had the same reaction as Clarke did and tried to send her back to the bar to ask about another drink. Thankfully, it was one Clarke knew all about, so she didn’t need to deal with Bellamy. She decided in the time it took her to walk from the bar to her section that her new goal in life was to avoid Bellamy Blake as much as humanly possible.

\--

Turned out, that wasn’t going to be so easy.

After Clarke got comfortable at work and on Jasper and Monty’s couch—well, as comfortable as possible—she started going out with her friends on her nights off. But, being only 19 meant going out was just an excuse for hanging out at different people’s houses. And, since Bellamy was the only one they knew well enough who was over 21, it meant they mostly hung out at _his_ house.

“I am _not_ going to Bellamy’s house,” Clarke told Monty as soon as Jasper accidentally told her where they were going for the night. He’d promptly ran away, leaving Monty to deal with Clarke’s meltdown.

“So, what? You’re just going to stay on the couch every night? You moved back here to start your life,” he reminded her and she rolled her eyes. “You actually have to leave the apartment in order to even _have_ a life.”

“I deal with Bellamy every day at work,” Clarke whined. Monty smiled gently and she had the urge to both hug him and punch him. “Why do we have to hang out with him _outside of work_?”

“Because he’s our friend,” he said slowly. “And he buys the alcohol. Plus, he’s not as bad as you think he is. He just takes some time to warm up to.”

“Does he even know that I’m coming over? Because I don’t think he’d like it if he did.”

“Of course he does,” Monty insisted and she wasn’t really sure if she believed him. “He doesn’t care. Just don’t talk to him if you don’t want to. Everyone else will be there. You don’t even need to deal with him.”

Clarke whined again and Monty kept smiling on. “Fine,” she said finally and his smile turned triumphant.

“Twenty minutes.”

“As you wish.”

“Isn’t that my line, _Princess_?” Monty teased and, this time, Clarke did punch him. It was only in the shoulder, but it was hard enough for him to fall back a step, laughing.

“You’re dead to me.”

\--

But Monty could never be dead to Clarke, especially not when she was using him as a human shield as the three of them walked into Bellamy’s house. She was genuinely surprised to find it was an actual _house_ , not an apartment like the rest of the people they worked with or even knew. It was a three-bedroom ranch in the quiet part of town, away from the center and Polaris, but with the river running smoothly behind it. The house was nice.

The owner was not.

Bellamy nodded at both Monty and Jasper when they walked inside, and smirked sardonically at Clarke before turning back to the game of quarters he was playing with Miller, Murphy, and Raven.

“I didn’t know he and Miller were all that close,” Clarke whispered to Jasper while Monty got distracted by the other bartender.

“Best friends,” he confirmed and Clarke hummed. “Bellamy got him the job at Polaris. And then he got Monty the job in the kitchen, which made it easy for me to get a job. Kane trusts Bellamy and Miller too much sometimes.”

“It worked out in our favor, right? Bellamy also got Raven an interview and she’s the one that brought me in.”

“Exactly,” Monty said, turning away from the table to look at Clarke and Jasper. “So, don’t be so hard on him. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Bellamy.”

“He didn’t birth me,” Clarke groaned. “He was just a single step in getting me this job.”

“This job with awesome tips,” Jasper reminded him and she nodded reluctantly. “Tips that will, eventually, get you off of my couch.”

“She doesn’t need to go anywhere,” Monty scolded him and Jasper sighed and then quickly smiled. “She’s fine.”

“The couch is yours,” Jasper promised her and she leaned over to kiss him soundly on the cheek. “For as long as you need it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” they both said in unison and she smiled at them both. She really was lucky—for them and Raven and, hell, even Bellamy, she supposed.

It wasn’t much later, just a couple of minutes, when Bellamy joined them by the keg and Clarke went back to hiding behind Monty—which was utterly useless, but important to her, nonetheless. Bellamy noticed what she was doing, too, and he just shook his head and filled a solo cup with beer.

“For you,” he said, handing it to Clarke and Monty looked over his shoulder to appraise her. She stepped to stand next to him and slowly— _very_ slowly—her hand reached out for the cup from Bellamy. Her eyes never left his until her fingers were around the cup.

“Why?” she asked skeptically and he huffed out a laugh.

“I am nothing if not a good host,” he told her and she furrowed her brows, not believing him for a second.

“Is this some kind of peace offering?” Clarke demanded and both Jasper and Monty walked away, rolling their eyes, no doubt due to her aggressive tone.

“God no,” Bellamy insisted, laughing too hard, but she took a slow, careful sip of the beer anyway. “But, it’s clear we’re going to be spending some time together, both on and off the clock, so that’s all this is.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a peace offering,” Clarke said, trying so hard to keep the smile off her face. He didn’t even try, just flashed her a real smile—not the ones he used on the customers or Kane.

“Whatever you say,” he said, nodding once, “Princess.”

And then he was brushing past her and she turned to watch him disappear into the kitchen. She didn’t know why, all of a sudden, she had an urge to follow him. But she refrained and, instead, walked over to where Raven was still sitting with Murphy and Miller.

The four of them started up a friendly game of flip cup, recruiting Monty, Jasper, Harper, and Monroe to join them. The game got a little rowdy, though, and drew a crowd. Other people from the restaurant stood around them, cheering on one team or the other. People Clarke had never even seen were there, circling the table, too. Bellamy stood down at her end of the table, obviously cheering on the other team of Raven, Miller, Jasper, and Monroe, but it didn’t matter. Clarke, Monty, Murphy, and Harper were winning and she was actually really happy that she put on real pants and left the couch to go to Bellamy’s.

“It’s too loud,” someone called before slamming the door shut behind them and the game ceased.

Clarke looked over to see Bellamy’s little sister had joined them and she smiled at her. They were a year apart in school, but they’d had a few electives together and always got along.

“It’s fine, O,” Bellamy sighed and she shook her head.

“If I can hear you from the street, then the neighbors can hear you from next door,” Octavia told him and Clarke looked at him. He glanced back at her and held her gaze for a second.

“When did you become the responsible one?” he asked his sister, looking away from Clarke and the rest of the table.

“Never,” Octavia laughed. “I just don’t want to deal with the Wallaces in the morning. I don’t care what’s going on, just do it a little quieter.”

“Is quieter a word?” Miller asked, looking at Octavia and she flipped him off with a devilish smirk.

“It is,” she said, but then her face fell. “I think. Just shut up and come play me in beer pong.”

“Yes!” Miller clapped, abandoning flip cup, and Clarke glared at him.

“Nate and Octavia have a longstanding beer pong fight,” Monty explained, leaning over to whisper in Clarke’s ear when he noticed the look on her face. “They’ve been trading off wins since last fall, ever since Bellamy let her come to his parties.”

“Nate?” Clarke asked, whispering too so that no one else could hear them. “I thought you gave up calling him that when you decided he wasn’t for you?”

“Old habits,” Monty shrugged, taking a long sip of his beer. “Sometimes they never die.”

Clarke hugged him from the side and his arms circled her shoulders while the rest of the table and game disbanded.

\--

Later on, she found herself leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Bellamy and Jasper playing beer pong. She stood in silence, leaning against Raven’s shoulder as she waited to play the winner. Clarke was terrible at beer pong, so she was just there to watch and when Bellamy lost, she cheered Jasper on until Raven and Bellamy switched places.

“You know,” he said, looking over at her and she wrenched her eyes away from the game to look back at him, “I never thought I’d see you in my house.”

“If I’d had my way earlier tonight, you probably wouldn’t have,” she admitted and he nodded, smiling. “But Monty _insisted_ you’re not as bad as you seem.”

“I’m worse.”

“I agree,” she told him, but she was smiling. “You’re the devil.”

Bellamy laughed and took a sip of his drink, watching her over his cup.

“You were right, though,” Clarke said carefully and he leaned closer to her, eyebrows raised. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. I don’t have anything substantive to offer, but can a handshake count as a peace offering?”

Bellamy looked like he was going to make some kind of remark, but then his face turned serious and he offered her his hand. “For when we’re off the clock,” he amended and she nodded, taking his hand to shake.

“Deal.”

Bellamy nodded, shaking her hand slowly, and Clarke could feel her face flush under his gaze. She always knew he was attractive, especially before she ever worked with him, when he was just an idea in her head, but now—with her hand in his—she could see it in a whole new light.

He had these freckles all over his face that she’d never noticed in the dark bar of Polaris. His hair was fluffier than she thought it’d be, looking much softer up close. His eyes were a deep brown that seemed to go on forever. And he had a scar on his top lip that was covered in a thin layer of patchy scruff.

He was nothing like the guys she’d ever crushed on before. Not that she had a crush on Bellamy, because she _hated_ Bellamy, but she couldn’t deny how her eyes kept slipping to his lips.

She cleared her throat, tearing her hand from his so she could drink what was left of her beer. “I’m working the breakfast shift in the morning,” she told him and he nodded, clearing his own throat and taking a step away from her. “I should head home before the sun comes up.”

“Get a couple of hours of sleep,” he agreed and she nodded quickly, looking for Monty so she could tell him where she was going. “I’ll probably see you at work before your shift ends.”

“Probably.” Clarke smiled tightly and practically ran out of the kitchen to find Monty who was sitting on the couch with Harper asleep against his chest.

“Where are you going?” he asked quietly and she could see the exhaustion in his face. He’d worked a double before coming home to shower off the smell of Polaris’ kitchen and she knew he’d be sleeping until his shift the next night.

“Breakfast shift,” she said simply and he nodded, yawning. “Want me to drive her home?”

“Monroe is just going to the bathroom,” Monty explained. “They’re about to head out, too.”

“Okay,” Clarke smiled, leaning down to hug him quickly. “See you at home.”

\--

The breakfast shift was easy, which is why, she guessed, Kane had made it her first shift off of training. It was slower than lunch and practically dead compared to dinner. She definitely preferred the hustle of mid-day and night shifts, but the breakfast shift was perfect following a night of flip cup and drinking.

When Raven came in for her lunch shift, she smiled at Clarke while she tied on her apron, looking a little worse for wear. She was about to make a comment when Kane busted through the kitchen.

“Clarke, how would you feel about working a double?” he asked and her eyes widened. Eight hours waitressing was about all she could handle, and she still had two more hours _left_. “Don’t worry, not serving. Fox called out from the host desk. There are no tips, but you _do_ get a big bump in your hourly wage. If you can’t, that’s fine, but I would really appreciate it.”

“She’ll do it,” Raven said and Kane looked between them, no doubt tempted to accept Raven’s word. “She was a hostess at the country club in high school. You don’t even need to train her.”

“Raven,” Clarke whispered harshly, but Raven just looked at her with narrow eyes. They both knew Clarke needed all of the money and shifts she could get and, since Kane was friends with her mom, he did, too. It would look good if she went out of her way to do him this favor. He’d remember that when her six month review came around. “I’ll do it,” she relented with a smile and Kane let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he said, coming over to squeeze her shoulder. “The shift change is at 1, take a break at 12:30. Thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Clarke called after him before he disappeared into his office.

“This is good,” Raven said. “This way, when Roma finally moves out, you can actually move in and pay rent.”

“When is Roma moving out, again?” Clarke asked, tightening her own apron.

“Well,” Raven laughed, “Not until the end of the year when the lease is up. But, hey, it’s something to look forward to.”

“Counting down the days,” Clarke smiled, turning to push through the kitchen door. When she was on the other side, looking over her section, she noticed Bellamy stocking the bar and walked over to him.

“You’re early,” she commented and he shrugged, unpacking a case of wine.

“Miller mentioned he didn’t stock the bar before he left last night,” he explained and Clarke nodded. “So, here I am. An hour and a half early for my shift to make sure we have everything we need.”

“I guess he’s lucky he’s your best friend,” Clarke said and Bellamy breathed out a laugh. “Thanks for last night, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Well, basically for not kicking me out of your house,” she said and he nodded slowly, looking at her like she was crazy. “And for the peace offering.”

“Off the clock peace offering,” he reminded her, but he was smiling. Clarke nodded, looking back at her section and sighing. “We’ve still got some work to do before we make the same deal here.”

“We’ve got all day to do it,” she told him and his brow furrowed. “I’m hosting lunch and dinner.”

“Wow, Kane’s not wasting any time taking advantage of our new server, huh?”

“I need the money.” She shrugged and, before he could say anything, she continued, “I should check on my tables.”

She closed out her section just in time for her break at 12:30 and when she walked through the bar to get to the kitchen, Bellamy nodded her over. The bar was closed until 1 and it looked like he was done restocking, so she wasn’t sure what he wanted with her, but she went over anyway.

“Tell me something,” Bellamy said quietly, leaning over the bar when she reached him.

“Tell you what?”

“How much of a dick have I been for shitting on you for dropping out of Yale?” he asked and, this time, when he said Yale, it didn’t sound so bad. He actually sounded a little sorry.

“Huge dick,” she told him and he sighed, running his hands through his curls. “I _did_ drop out of Yale, but you make it sound like I’m just playing a role here. This is what I’m choosing to do with my life. Unlike high school and Yale, it’s on my terms. I don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t want to be _my mother_.”

“It would be so easy for you, though.” The way he said it made Clarke realize how different their lives must have been growing up. Bellamy had never made an easy choice in his life, probably because he’d never had the option.

“If easy was what I wanted, I would be going back to Yale at the end of the summer,” she reminded him and he nodded, breathing deeply. “I don’t expect you to understand or, even, care, but unless you plan on quitting, you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her and she smiled tightly.

“Then it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Bellamy nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. Clarke shrugged quickly and headed back for the kitchen, picking up the lunch she’d put through for herself and walking to the breakroom. It was only a few minutes later when Bellamy joined her, sitting down across from her.

“A trial run, on the clock peace offering,” he said, reaching his hand across the table. Clarke was holding a sandwich in both hands, halfway to her mouth, but put it back on the plate slowly. She wiped her hands against each other, and reached out to shake Bellamy’s still outstretched hand.

“A trial run?” she asked, shaking once and then twice.

“Yes,” he nodded, taking his hand back. She put her elbow on the able and placed her chin in her palm and studied him. “What?”

“I’m going to win you over,” she told him, smiling, and he rolled his eyes. “By the end of the summer, you’re going to be so happy I’m not going back to school.”

At that, he sighed. “You should eventually, though,” he told her and she sat back in her chair, stunned. “As your friend who never had the opportunity,” he smiled gently and she nodded for him to continue, “Once you figure out what you _do_ want to do, you should go back to school. Maybe not Yale, but who knows? Harvard’s always an option, right?”

“I already turned them down,” she shrugged and his mouth fell open. “Just kidding. I barely got into Yale. I didn’t even apply to Harvard.”

“Well,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You should if you ever end up going back.”

Clarke looked down at her plate, smiling to herself, and nodded. “Thanks, Bellamy.”

“I never said it when you started, but, um,” he sighed and she looked up at him again. “Welcome to the team. We spend too much time together and hate our jobs, but it’s still a pretty good team.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said with another smile. “Want some before we have to get back out there?”

She slid her plate so it sat at the middle of the table and Bellamy hesitantly reached over to grab a fry. It wasn’t much in terms of an offering, but Clarke could tell peace between them was imminent.

\--

“I swear to god, Clarke, if you seat _one more_ party in the lounge, I’m going to fire you myself,” Bellamy whispered harshly over the sound of the customers. Every seat at the bar was taken and the tables in the rest of the lounge were getting close, too.

“You have no authority to fire me,” she reminded him, but she was stressing out about it, too. The dining room was completely full, though, and the only people coming in were over 21, so she had no choice but to seat them in the lounge.

“We’re down a server in here,” Bellamy told her and her eyes widened. “Two people can’t handle all of this. Miller and I are barely staying afloat at the bar. I can’t keep sending him out there to help. So, either throw on an apron or stop seating people until we empty out a bit.”

“He’s right.” Clarke and Bellamy turned to see Kane looking out over the restaurant, worry written all over his face. “I wasn’t expecting to be down a host _and_ a server. Can you fill in here and I’ll take over the host’s stand?”

“Uh,” Clarke started, looking out at the customers in the lounge. “Yeah, sure.”

But, she wasn’t so sure. She’d only worked three shifts off training and they were two breakfasts and a mid-week lunch shift. It was a Saturday at dinner and she wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t screw it up.

“Perfect,” Bellamy sighed, smiling at her, relieved. “You’ll be in section three. I’ll fill in Harper and Murphy. Go get your apron.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, rolling her eyes and Bellamy laughed sarcastically as she walked away.

Clarke tried to keep herself from stressing out about a dinner shift in the bar, of all places, but her hands were shaking and her legs were jelly. And she was _tired_. She knew her paycheck would be great, but she wasn’t sure it would be worth it if she passed out during her first double.

When she got back to the bar, Bellamy handed her a pitcher of water for her section and threw her his exaggerated, customer smile for all to see. He was swamped, too. Clarke could see three different people trying to get his attention. And that wasn’t including the four customers that Miller was fielding on his side of the bar.

“Thank you,” she said, breathing in and out deeply, hoping it would psych her up just enough before she was fed to the wolves.

“You’ve got this,” Bellamy assured her, his fake smile morphing into something a little more genuine. She could tell because of the slight crinkle around his eyes.

Clarke nodded once, confidently, and turned back to talk to her first table.

\--

Clarke’s whole body hurt. She was sure, at the end of the night, even her _hair_ was in pain. She was sitting at the bar, counting and dividing her tips while Raven, Murphy, Harper, Bellamy, and Miller did the same around her.

They were all leaning heavily against the bar, their hair and clothes in disarray. Memorial Day weekend, apparently, was one of the busiest weekends of the year. No one told Clarke, but she picked up on it pretty quickly.

As Clarke was sliding Bellamy’s portion of her tips over to him, Monty and Jasper came out, smelling like oil and garlic, covered in different types of foods.

“We’re going home,” Monty announced and everyone nodded silently, too exhausted to even speak.

“The kitchen is clean,” Jasper told them and they all nodded again. “The food is stocked. If Kane asks, tell him we died.”

“Will do,” Raven promised, sliding Miller his tips. “See you tomorrow for another fun-filled day in hell.”

“Can’t wait,” Monty sighed, pulling Jasper by the collar back through the kitchen toward the employee parking lot.

“I might actually die,” Clarke said, folding her tips up and sliding them into her pocket. “I won’t even make it to tomorrow.”

“You did a great job,” Raven promised her and Clarke attempted a smile. “Today sucked and you were supposed to be gone, like, twelve hours ago. Tomorrow will be better.”

“No it won’t,” Bellamy piped in, getting off of his stool. He stretched his arms over his head and his black t-shirt rode up, catching Clarke’s eye. “But, at least you’ll be more prepared.”

“Right,” Clarke huffed, unsure if she’d ever be prepared. She was starting to think she was in over her head. Bellamy shrugged and walked by her, squeezing her shoulder.

Raven glared at her, eyes wide, and Clarke shook her head, silently letting her know she’d explain their peace offering later—when she was more awake and less dead on her feet.

Just then, Kane came in from cleaning the dining room and looked at what was left of his staff. “Good hustle tonight,” he said, nodding slowly. “Get some rest. Most of you are scheduled for tomorrow, too.”

Clarke looked over at him and could tell he was already calculating how bad it would be the next day. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head, wondering just how many servers he’d need and if he needed to schedule more last minute. She knew because she was thinking the same thing. She was scheduled for a dinner shift—officially, this time—and hoped she wouldn’t be called in earlier, because she was going to sleep in as late as humanly possible.

It was then she remembered, for the first time that day, that she was still sleeping on a couch. And not even one with a pullout mattress. She was more than grateful for Monty and Jasper allowing her to crash there, but she needed a real bed with real supports. She needed a home of some sort until Roma moved out and she could move in with Raven.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Miller told me about your mom,” Bellamy said to her when they were sitting on his back deck after they closed the restaurant. Octavia and Jasper were throwing a glow in the dark Frisbee back and forth on the lawn and Miller and Monty were sitting on the other side of the deck, playing some kind of card game while Raven heckled them relentlessly.
> 
> “What did he say?” Clarke asked because she wasn’t sure what Miller actually knew about the situation with her mother.
> 
> “That she was in Polaris today and that when he told you, you looked like you were having some kind of stroke.”
> 
> “You know that my mom and I aren’t talking, obviously,” she said and Bellamy nodded, leaning his forearms on his knees so he was closer to her when she talked. She’d learned that Bellamy was actually a really good listener and that he cared when he listened. He wasn’t one of those people who asked how you were and then nodded and tuned you out when you answered. “And ever since my dad died, things have been… difficult between us. Imagine how it would be now. I don’t want to- I can’t deal with that now. Not at work, of all places.”
> 
> Or: A peace offering turns into a friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback so far! I hope you guys keep reading and liking what I'm doing here!

“Your mom was in here today,” Miller said casually as soon as Clarke walked in for her dinner shift. Her mouth fell open, making him smile.

Miller knew her mom and her mom knew Miller. Their parents ran in the same circles, but where Clarke’s mother was only happy when Clarke was on her way to being a doctor at Yale, Sergeant Miller was okay with letting him go to the local state school and figure out what he wanted to do with his life.  And when Miller moved out of his house to move in with Bellamy, his father didn’t cut him off or ignore him.

“Did she ask about me?” she asked him, and she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I only saw her as she was leaving. She was with good ole Mayor Jaha,” he recalled, shrugging. Clarke nodded and leaned against the bar. Miller continued cleaning glasses and Clarke watched him. She knew she should probably reach out to her mother, because her mother was too stubborn to reach out to her. But that was one of the traits Clarke got from her mother, so she wasn’t planning on making the first move any time soon.

“Stop distracting my staff.”

Clarke looked back to find Bellamy smiling one of his rare, authentic smiles. “ _Your_ staff? Nice try,” she scoffed and he only smiled wider.

“Just got promoted to bar manager,” Bellamy told her and she gasped, excited for him. Miller hugged him quickly and congratulated him and then Bellamy turned back to look at Clarke again. “Do you know anyone who needs a job? We’re looking to hire two new bartenders.”

“Everyone I know in this town already works here,” Clarke reminded him with a laugh.

“What? No ivy league kids who want to slum it?” Bellamy asked, head tilted—taunting.

“Just me,” she said, smiling. She tightened her apron and turned to head for the dining room. “And you’re already stuck with me,” she called over her shoulder.

Bellamy laughed behind her before she heard him and Miller talking about possible new bartenders. She looked over her shoulder before she crossed the threshold into the dining room and, therefore, officially started work and Bellamy caught her eye and smiled at her softly. She knew from the two weeks since their peace offering that meant he had just been teasing her and that maybe-just maybe—he liked being stuck with her. She definitely didn’t mind being stuck with him.

\--

“Miller told me about your mom,” Bellamy said to her when they were sitting on his back deck after they closed the restaurant. Octavia and Jasper were throwing a glow in the dark Frisbee back and forth on the lawn and Miller and Monty were sitting on the other side of the deck, playing some kind of card game while Raven heckled them relentlessly.

“What did he say?” Clarke asked because she wasn’t sure what Miller actually knew about the situation with her mother.

“That she was in Polaris today and that when he told you, you looked like you were having some kind of stroke.”

“You know that my mom and I aren’t talking, obviously,” she said and Bellamy nodded, leaning his forearms on his knees so he was closer to her when she talked. She’d learned that Bellamy was actually a really good listener and that he _cared_ when he listened. He wasn’t one of those people who asked how you were and then nodded and tuned you out when you answered. “And ever since my dad died, things have been… _difficult_ between us. Imagine how it would be now. I don’t want to- I _can’t_ deal with that now. Not at work, of all places.”

“I didn’t know about your dad,” Bellamy admitted quietly and Clarke shrugged. She didn’t talk about her dad, especially not with Bellamy. They were barely friends. That is, if they were friends at all. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she insisted brusquely. “But, if he were here, things would be very different and my mother knows that as well as I do.”

Bellamy nodded and Clarke sat back against the step, leaning on her elbows. She didn’t want to talk about her mother and she _really_ didn’t want to talk about her father.

“My dad died when I was two,” Bellamy said quietly and Clarke’s head snapped to look at him. She’d also learned that Bellamy wasn’t one to talk about his parents either. But, she supposed, it was only fair. “And Octavia’s dad bailed before she was born. My mom was never the same after that, so I have some idea what you’re talking about. Parents suck.”

“Or they’re dead.”

“Or both.”

Clarke huffed out an unamused laugh and nodded. Bellamy smiled tightly and handed her his beer. She took it gratefully and finished it in one gulp. Just as she was putting it down on the deck, Raven launched herself at Clarke and they both tumbled to the grass, laughing.

It was then that the light turned on in the backyard next door, which sent Bellamy jumping to his feet. Octavia grabbed Jasper’s hand and pulled him inside, Miller, Monty, and Raven followed. Clarke just looked at Bellamy’s wide eyes in confusion and watched as he panicked.

All of a sudden his arm was locked around her waist and he was dragging her into the house—the very dark, very quiet house.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust because the only light streaming into the kitchen came from that light next door, but she could see her friends sitting in the corner of the kitchen trying very hard not to laugh.

“What is going on?” Clarke asked, pulling herself out of Bellamy’s grasp. She slid onto the kitchen floor next to Octavia and Bellamy sat down next to her, his legs outstretched far beyond hers.

“The Wallaces are awake,” Octavia explained and Clarke remembered the name from the party a few weeks before, but she still had no idea what the big deal was.

“Dante’s not so bad,” Bellamy said and Clarke just nodded, because it was easier to pretend she knew what they were talking about then ask. “But _Cage_ is back for the summer. And he doesn’t take well to being woken up at 3 in the morning.”

At that, Clarke blanched. She checked the clock over the stove and saw that it was, in fact, just about 3 AM and she laughed quietly.

Before the summer and Polaris, Clarke was used to staying up past midnight to do homework or skype with Wells in California. But, since she’d started at the restaurant, she was staying up later and later, just having fun and making memories with her friends. And Bellamy.

\--

And Bellamy was _not_ her friend. Especially not when he treated the waitstaff like shit for just doing their jobs. Sure, she understood the bar was busy on Friday and Saturday nights. And she always did her best to go easy on the bar when she needed drinks. She always poured her own wine or got the bottled beers herself, but when it came to mixed drinks, she _needed_ a bartender.

She was waiting for one last drink from Miller when Bellamy walked over to her with his arms crossed and his eyes serious. “This is your tenth time here in an hour,” he told her and she shrugged, reaching for a pile of cocktail napkins. “Give it a fucking break.”

Clarke scoffed and looked at Miller incredulously and he looked back with a blank stare and a slow nod. “I’m _so_ sorry that my customers are thirsty and want the expensive drinks that bring in the big tips,” she said, picking up her tray and holding it proudly. “And I’m _so_ sorry that Miller’s tips are going to be so big that he won’t be able to fit them all in his pockets. I’m a fucking monster.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and threw his bar rag over his shoulder before walking away and Clarke looked at Miller again.

“What the fuck is his problem?” she whispered and Miller leaned over the bar.

“I think the new promotion is getting to him,” he said conspiratorially. “He’s been a dick all week.”

“Well, thank you for the drinks,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Good luck with _the boss_.”

“Thanks,” Miller said with a scoff and Clarke smiled at him before heading to her table.

The thing was, it wasn’t even _busy_. She only had three tables, Raven only had two, and Monroe had the most with four. That was an _easy_ night. The lounge was slightly busier, but Harper and Murphy weren’t in the weeds or anything. And Clarke could see three empty stools at the bar. They had all been a lot worse off with no problems.

Clarke really believed Miller was right. Bellamy’s promotion was getting to his head. Or he was taking it too seriously. But Clarke knew that he needed to calm down. Kane promoted him for a reason and there was no way he would _ever_ fire him.

It felt like the first few weeks she’d been working at Polaris when Bellamy was on his high horse. She dreaded going to the bar to ask for drinks. She didn’t make small talk with anyone while she waited. She even avoided Octavia when she saw her sitting at the bar toward the end of the night in case Bellamy saw and told her to get back to work with his false sense of authority.

When the night was over and the bar was empty, Clarke had to walk through it in order to get to her locker in the breakroom and stopped when she saw Octavia _staring_ at her.

“What?” she asked, reaching for her face. She really hoped she hadn’t been walking around all shift with food on it.

“Why are you pretending I don’t exist?” Octavia asked and Clarke sighed, looking around for Bellamy. But he and Miller weren’t around. It was just Octavia at the bar and Harper and Murphy cleaning their tables.

“Your brother is a dick and I didn’t want to deal with his condescending bullshit all night,” Clarke explained, tucking her hand into her apron pocket. “I’m sorry. What are you even doing here?”

“I was late for work this morning and left the house without my keys,” she shrugged. “I had nothing else to do, so I figured I’d hang out here until Bellamy got off and he could drive me home.”

“Makes sense,” Clarke said and she flinched when she heard the door open into the bar, but sighed when it was only Miller. “I should go. Have a good night.”

“You’re not coming over?” Octavia asked because it was habit that she’d go over after her shift with the rest of their friends. They’d watch movies or make as little noise as possible in the backyard. They’d stay up until dawn when they didn’t need to be at the restaurant the next day.

But Clarke wasn’t going over after that shift, not with the way Bellamy was walking around all high and mighty like he was some kind of god.

“Not tonight.” She smiled and Octavia nodded, understanding. Of course she understood. Bellamy was her _brother_.

Just as Clarke was heading for the breakroom again, Bellamy came out and they had an awkward standoff.

“Bellamy, why are you such an asshole?”

Clarke’s eyes widened at Bellamy before she turned to look at Octavia. Miller laughed and Bellamy took a deep breath like he was ready to argue.

“Come on, Octavia. You’ll have to be a little more specific when you accuse me of being an asshole,” he said calmly. But Clarke was standing close enough to him that she knew he was seething. And she wasn’t even facing him. It radiated off of him.

“None of your friends will look at you right now,” Octavia said slowly. “Miller hasn’t said a word to you in the three hours I’ve been sitting here. Miller. Your best friend. Your roommate. _Miller._ ”

“I know who Miller is,” Bellamy said and Clarke chanced a peek at him over her shoulder. He was glancing at Miller, but Miller was staring resolutely at the glass in his hand.

“And I’m pretty sure all the progress you and Clarke have made in the last three weeks has gone to shit, but I don’t know why because you’re being an asshole to me, too, and won’t tell me why she hasn’t been around for the last three days,” Octavia finished and Clarke felt Bellamy sigh. His breath fanned against her neck and she turned around to glare at him.

“What?” he asked—practically yelled-- and Clarke rolled her eyes, pushing past him. Octavia jumped to her feet, though, and pulled her back into the bar. More of their friends had joined them. Raven was looking on with an amused smile, but Clarke knew she was annoyed with Bellamy, too. She just loved the drama when she wasn’t directly involved in it.

“Ever since you got promoted, you walk around like you’re better than us,” she told him.

“That’s _rich_ coming from you,” he spat and Clarke scoffed.

“Punny. You’re _so_ punny,” she said, shaking her head. “But ask anyone, Bellamy. This job shouldn’t change who you are. You’re not as much of an asshole as you like to pretend you are, so don’t become one.”

“Honestly, dude,” Miller interjected and Clarke was glad because if she kept going, she’d either yell or get too mushy and she wanted neither of those things to happen. “You already got the promotion. You’ve been doing the job longer than you’ve had it, so nothing should change. You get a salary now, not an excuse to talk to the staff like they’re your disappointing children.”

Clarke didn’t wait to hear Bellamy’s rebuttal because she took the opportunity to finally push her way through the kitchen and into the breakroom. Monty and Jasper were there, leaning together over Monty’s phone, watching it intently.

“Raven’s giving us the play by play,” Jasper explained without looking up. “Bellamy doesn’t like that you just walked out.”

“Bellamy can fuck off,” Clarke said and Monty giggled a little. “Are you guys going home?”

“Yeah,” Monty said, tucking his phone into his pocket. Jasper reached for his in his own pocket and kept both Clarke and Monty up to date on the ride home.

\--

Clarke woke up to loud knocking at the front door. Sleeping on the couch had a lot of downfalls, but she thought that was one of its worse. After late nights at the restaurant, she always woke up to one of Jasper’s Amazon deliveries or Monty’s mom coming over to drop off groceries and other supplies Monty and the house would need.

This time, though, it wasn’t Mrs. Green or the UPS guy. It was a sheepish looking Bellamy with two coffees.

Clarke looked him up and down while he did the same to her and he couldn’t seem to keep the smirk from his face. She was sure she looked _dazzling_ first thing in the morning in a Yale t-shirt that hung off her shoulder and a pair of bright yoga capris. She didn’t even want to think about her hair. She’d gone to bed with it in the same braid she wore at work, but most of it was in her face, so she could only imagine what was going on up there.

Normally, she didn’t think twice about how she looked when she answered the doors in the morning. Monty’s mom always told her she looked beautiful and well rested--a lie, but a nice lie. The UPS guy only stared at her boobs. But Bellamy? He was enjoying the way she looked _far_ too much for Clarke’s liking.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asked, blocking any entry into the apartment. The boys were still asleep and she didn’t want any yelling between her and Bellamy to wake them up.

“Miller and Octavia pretty much screamed at me the entire way home last night,” he started and it made her smile. “And, uh, I definitely think I owe you an apology.”

“What are you apologizing for exactly?” she asked innocently, making it as difficult as possible for him. She wouldn’t be Clarke and he wouldn’t be Bellamy if it were easy.

“Clarke,” he sighed and she just blinked up at him until he rolled his eyes and sighed. He practically shoved a coffee into her hand and she laughed, moving to the side to let him in.

“Be quiet,” she warned, looking down the hall to make sure the bedroom doors were closed. “They’re asleep.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you sound like they’re mother?” Bellamy asked, sitting on the couch—her bed—and moving her pillow and blankets aside.

“They let me sleep on their couch and take over their living room for free. I’m going to make sure they get as much sleep as they want.”

“Okay,” Bellamy said, nodding. They sat there, next to each other on the couch, in silence for a minute and Clarke sighed, leaning against her pile of blankets and Bellamy finally got the hint. “I can’t fuck it up, Clarke—this promotion. The money is too good and the opportunity could really pay off. Kane owns the place and _three other_ places in town. He’s going to give up managing Polaris one day and when he does, I want to be on the shortlist to take over. I’m pretty sure he’s just there now because he’s bored.”

“Yeah, I always wondered why he was there all the time,” Clarke mentioned. “He’s loaded. He doesn’t need to work as long as he can oversee everything from a distance.”

“Which he does with his three other businesses,” Bellamy agreed.

“Bellamy,” Clarke sighed, getting back to the problem at hand. “Kane trusts you and he promoted you for a reason. You’re good at your job. We all know that. You don’t need to talk down to us and treat us like filth to keep the title. And you don’t need to turn into Kane’s bad side, either.”

Clarke knew Kane could be a jerk to his employees when he wanted to, but it was becoming more and more rare. Even since she’d started, he’d gotten more and more calm and collected and it had only been about a month. She knew Bellamy _was_ a jerk, so she understood why he’d think he had to make up for Kane’s missing conviction.

“I can’t fuck it up,” he said again. “And Kane and _everyone_ knows that business and pleasure don’t mix. I can’t show my friends special treatment.”

“No one is asking for that!” Clarke exclaimed and Bellamy glared daggers at her before glancing down the hall and Clarke covered her mouth, listening for any sounds from the bedroom. Sometimes, she really did feel like Monty and Jasper’s mother. “No one is asking for that,” she said again, whispering and Bellamy nodded.

“Well, after last night and all the yelling in my car, I think that part of the learning process has ended,” he said and Clarke smiled. “I’m sorry I was an ass to you and everyone else.”

“I can’t believe you came here,” Clarke said, shaking her head and Bellamy shrugged. “You could have texted me.”

“I actually was going to do that,” he admitted, “but I don’t have your number.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke said, putting her coffee onto the table and trading it for her phone. “If we exchange numbers now, that means we’re _friends,_ Bellamy. I knew I was going to win you over.”

“Shut up and give me your phone,” he said, putting his coffee down next to hers. Clarke smiled and handed him her phone. She watched as he entered his number and listened for the vibration in his pocket when he called himself to make sure he had her number, too. “Friends?” he asked, handing her phone back.

“Friends,” she agreed, taking it and he nodded.

The two of them looked at each other a second longer until Jasper came into the living room, pulling on a shirt.

“Oh god,” he said, looking between Clarke and Bellamy, his eyes widening. “Holy shit.”

“What is your problem?” Bellamy asked as Monty joined them in the living room, grabbing a tight hold of Jasper’s shoulders.

“No way,” he said, looking at Jasper who just nodded.

“What?” Clarke demanded.

“Did you two…?”

“Oh my god!” Clarke shrieked, moving away from Bellamy. She’d realized—a moment too late—how closely they’d been sitting.

“No!” Bellamy insisted and Clarke saw the sheer terror in his eyes. “I _just_ got here. I came to apologize.”

“Oh,” Monty sighed, letting go of Jasper. “Good. That’s good.”

“Although,” Jasper mused and Clarke shook her head persistently. “It would make a lot of sense. Mom and dad, together at last.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Bellamy reminded him, pointing a finger at him and Jasper looked smug. Bellamy noticed what he was doing and quickly put his hand down. “Shut up.”

“Never going to happen,” Clarke promised the room. Bellamy was hot and they were friends, but that was all it would ever be. He would always be Bellamy and she would always be Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, call me when you get out tonight,” Clarke told him, finally giving in to squeeze his shoulder, like he’d done for her once or twice. Not that she was counting how many times Bellamy Blake had put his hands on her. “We’ll get drunk and play Mario Kart.”
> 
> Bellamy smiled a little at that, still looking down at the floor, and Clarke stood up, pulling him with her.
> 
> “I’ll see you later?” she asked when they were on their feet, getting weird looks at the customers that watched them appear as if from nowhere.
> 
> “I’ll call you,” Bellamy promised and Clarke nodded, smiling, before leaving through the kitchen to get to her car.
> 
> It didn’t hit her until she was alone in her car that she had just made plans to hang out with Bellamy. Alone. They’d never done that. They were always with at least one other person, but there wouldn’t be anyone else because they were all closing. Clarke was the only one out of work until Bellamy got out at 11. Everyone else wouldn’t get out until at least 1.
> 
> She wasn’t sure she was ready for Bellamy, all on his own.
> 
> Or: Clarke's afraid of catching feelings.

It was over a month later when Clarke’s shift in the lounge was finishing up and Bellamy pulled her behind the bar. Literally. They were squatting behind the bar so no one—except for Miller—could see them.

“What the fuck?” she asked, wrenching her arm out of his hand. Their friendship was real and even fulfilling, but earlier that night Bellamy would not stop picking stupid, childish fights with her. Again. Eventually, she told him off, letting him know that she wasn’t interested in any of his shit. Bellamy under stress was hard to deal with and she was trying to be more understanding, but sometimes she just couldn’t.

“Sorry about earlier,” he said and her eyes widened. She’d only heard Bellamy apologize once before. It felt nice hearing it again, directed at her. “I had a rough day before coming in.”

“Tell me about it, stud,” she said and he barked out a surprised laugh. They’d all watched _Grease_ the week before because Bellamy had refused for 22 years to ever watch it. Eventually, Octavia, Clarke, and Monty wore him down and they made a party out of it—like they did most things, Clarke was finding.

“Octavia’s going away to school.”

Clarke furrowed her brow and stared at him. She knew this. Bellamy had been the one to tell her.

“ _Next week_ ,” he continued and her heart broke for him. He’d been trying to make Octavia’s last summer at home the best one yet. She was planning on moving off-campus with some friends and getting a job to save a little money at the end of August. But it was only just the middle of July. “She found a job on campus. And a room to sublet until her apartment is ready at the beginning of the semester. She’s known for a month.”

“And she only told you this morning?” Clarke asked. Bellamy nodded, avoiding her eyes, and she wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but she refrained. They were friends but Bellamy wasn’t the most physical of people. She didn’t want to push any boundaries.

“She didn’t want to upset me or stress me out,” he explained and Clarke nodded. “ _Apparently_.”

“Well, call me when you get out tonight,” Clarke told him, finally giving in to squeeze his shoulder, like he’d done for her once or twice. Not that she was counting how many times Bellamy Blake had put his hands on her. “We’ll get drunk and play Mario Kart.”

Bellamy smiled a little at that, still looking down at the floor, and Clarke stood up, pulling him with her.

“I’ll see you later?” she asked when they were on their feet, getting weird looks at the customers that watched them appear as if from nowhere.

“I’ll call you,” Bellamy promised and Clarke nodded, smiling, before leaving through the kitchen to get to her car.

It didn’t hit her until she was alone in her car that she had just made plans to hang out with Bellamy. _Alone._ They’d never done that. They were always with at least one other person, but there wouldn’t be anyone else because they were all closing. Clarke was the only one out of work until Bellamy got out at 11. Everyone else wouldn’t get out until at least 1.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for Bellamy, all on his own.

\--

“I’m outside of Monty and Jasper’s,” Bellamy told Clarke over the phone and she took a deep breath, ready to say something, but he cut in again. “Come out?”

“I’ll be right down,” she agreed, sliding on her flip flops. She heard him hang up without another word and she tucked her phone into the back pocket of her cutoffs and left the apartment.

When she got outside, Bellamy’s car was idling at the curb and he had his arm hanging out of the driver’s window while his other hand tapped against the steering wheel. He was looking through the passenger window, probably trying to see the owl making all the noise, so Clarke surprised him when she walked by his window and slapped his hand.

“So, where to, Jeeves?” she asked when she slid into the car and Bellamy shrugged, putting the car in drive.

They drove for a mile or two in silence with the windows down and the radio on low. Clarke kept her eye on Bellamy, though, willing him to explain where they were going or what the plan was.

He slowed to a stop at the first light they encountered and he turned his head to look at her. “We’ve never done this before,” he said with a smirk.

“Nope,” Clarke agreed, laughing. She pulled her feet onto her seat and held her knees against her chest and continued staring at him. “I don’t even know what we’re doing, but we’ve never done it.”

“Do you mind if we just drive?” he asked and Clarke shrugged and nodded to the now green light. Bellamy looked at her a second longer before looking back at the road and driving again. “I didn’t even go home. Octavia is there, packing. I need to cool off and deal with her tomorrow.”

“Did she, like, spring this on you right before work?” Clarke asked and Bellamy huffed—annoyed—and nodded. “Shit. She knows what she’s doing.”

“I taught her well,” he said and Clarke could see a small smile on his face in the moonlight. “That was my trick with our mom. When I got suspended from school for smoking in the bathroom or when I wrecked her car.”

“I should have tried that when I told my mom I was dropping out of school.”

“Something tells me she would have missed whatever she was heading to just to give you the same ultimatum,” Bellamy said, looking over at her for a second, and she laughed.

He had found out the intricacies of what happened with Clarke, Yale, and her mother. She had found out about his mother dying and leaving the house to Bellamy and Octavia. She’d also found out that she shouldn’t talk about it much, even if he was. When it came to Aurora Blake, Bellamy didn’t allow discussion or questions. It was what it was. Just like with Clarke and her father. She could talk about him, but no one else had that right.

“I’m happy, though,” Clarke told him and he nodded. “This is what I wanted and I’m happy that this is what I’m doing. And, I know it sucks, but Octavia will be okay and you’ll be happy again soon.”

“She’s doing what she has to do,” Bellamy agreed reluctantly. “But, she’s all I have and she’s leaving in a week. Packing up all of her stuff and _moving_. We’ve never lived apart. I don’t know how to do this.”

“You can do it, Bellamy,” Clarke said, shifting in her seat so she could look at him more directly.

He was still driving, still watching the road, but his face was lit up from the full moon and his hair was blowing in the wind. He looked so much more at ease and free than Clarke imagined he felt. Sometimes, like in that moment, Bellamy didn’t look like a twenty-two-year-old with the world on his shoulders. Sometimes, he looked like a normal kid, living his life and enjoying his summer. But since their peace offering, Clarke learned that, no matter what Bellamy looked like, he’d always feel that world on his shoulders and he’d never let it go.

They continued driving, talking about less personal and important things. For a long time, they complained about Polaris and how much they worked. Bellamy even told her she was doing a good job and that she fit right in. Clarke told him that he made much better drinks than Miller, but they both agreed that Miller was much more level headed and relaxed when it came to busy nights and stressful shifts.

Clarke whined for a little while about how sleeping on a couch for two months was going to ruin her back and Bellamy just laughed at her as he drove along the river. She told him her plan to move in with Raven at the end of the year and he told her that he thought they’d make good roommates—that they would balance each other out.

“That’s kind of been the basis of our entire relationship,” she laughed. “Raven gets me to open up and let loose. I make her talk about feelings and get her to binge shows on Netflix instead of going out. I kind of threw a wrench in it all when I told her I was quitting Yale.”

“Honestly,” Bellamy said, pulling over in front of their old high school. Clarke didn’t even realize they were anywhere near it until they were _there_. “Who drops out of _Yale_?”

“You know what’s funny?” Clarke asked, avoiding the question.

“What’s funny?” Bellamy asked and she could tell he knew what she was doing, but she also knew he wouldn’t push her on it. It made her smile as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“You used to say _Yale_ like it personally offended you,” she told him. “You said it like it was the worst thing that ever happened in the world, like it was the cause of every cancer. Now you don’t even blink.”

“I used to say your name the same way,” he said, looking over to smirk at her.

Before she could respond, he was getting out of the car and Clarke scrambled to catch up to him.

“You never even used to say my name,” she reminded him as she fell into step next to him. “You’d just call me Princess.”

“Aw, I miss that, Princess,” he said, turning the corner toward the back of the school.

“Well, I don’t,” she said, then realized they were still walking. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, Princess.” He laughed and Clarke shoved him, just making him laugh harder.

When Bellamy ducked under a tree branch into the woods about ten yards away from the school, Clarke stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. Bellamy was her friend, sure, but she didn’t know him _all_ that well.

“What are you doing?” he asked, ducking again so he was standing in front of her.

“Not following you into the woods in the middle of the night,” she said and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to bond with you, Clarke,” he said, his voice a little too sweet to be sincere.

“Look, you do know my name,” she smiled and he put out his hand, palm up, fingers wiggling. She considered it for a moment and then him before unfolding her arms and placing her hand carefully into his. “If I die tonight, my mother will do everything in her power to find you and get you put in prison for the rest of your life.”

“I believe you,” he said, laughter lacing his voice. His hand curled around hers and he tugged gently. “Which is why I’m not going to kill you. At least not tonight.”

“Good.” Clarke nodded, pretending that Bellamy’s palm against hers wasn’t making her heart race. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything. And if he did, she’d blame the fact that she had no idea what they were doing or where they were going.

Finally, Bellamy turned around and pulled Clarke into the woods with him. He dropped her hand once he was sure she was following, but she stayed close to his back on the narrow trail. Every so often he would look over his shoulder to make sure she was still there and standing and only turn back to see where he was going when Clarke smiled at him.

They didn’t walk long, just long enough to get to the edge of the trees. Bellamy held aside a flimsy branch for Clarke to walk through, but she kept her eyes on him to make sure he was following. Mainly because she didn’t know where they were or what she’d see when she turned around. It was more comforting to know and see Bellamy was right there.

When he let the branch fall lamely behind him, he smiled at her and put both hands on her shoulders to turn her around.

“You said _you_ weren’t going to kill me tonight, that doesn’t mean you didn’t bring me all the way out here to have someone else do it instead,” Clarke said and Bellamy chuckled, throwing his arm over her shoulders to steer her.

“You’ve really put a lot of faith in me,” he said and Clarke rolled her eyes, but stepped just a tiny bit closer to him.

“Where are we?” she asked, finally taking in what surrounded them. There were no more trees in front of them, but the river ran quietly. Clarke could see what looked like a fort, old and dilapidated, and she looked up at Bellamy again. His arm had tightened around her, but he loosened it slightly when he looked down at Clarke.

“I don’t know why I brought you here,” he said quietly and Clarke elbowed him gently in the ribs, reminding him that she was there, not only physically, but there _for him._

“What is it?” she asked, unwinding his arm from around her so she could walk closer to the haphazard fort and Bellamy followed slowly.

“Octavia and I grew up just on the other side of the school,” he explained, kicking at the grass. “Well, I did. We moved into our grandfather’s house—now our house—when she was five. Murphy and I used to ride our bikes down here and we built that,” he said, nodding at what was left of the fort. “And I would bring Octavia here when my mom was at work so she wouldn’t be sitting in front of the TV all day. She loved it.”

“Did you guys ever come back after you moved?” Clarke asked, circling around to watch him. He ran his hand over the roof made of tin. The top of it only reached Clarke’s shoulder and she couldn’t imagine Bellamy ever fitting in something that small.

“It was harder to ride my bike from the new house,” he said, smiling slightly. “Plus, I wasn’t hanging out with Murphy that much anymore and didn’t, really, until high school. And Octavia forgot all about it once she found Harper and Monroe to be friends with. She didn’t need mine anymore.”

“Kind of funny how you have all the same friends now,” Clarke told him, smiling. “And, hell, she _just_ graduated. She’s not just your sister, Bellamy. She’s your friend, too. You’re losing more than you’re willing to admit. Hence the asshole you became today.”

She wasn’t sure she’d earned the right to talk about him like that, especially to his face, but she thought it was worth the risk. Maybe if he could admit it, he’d be able to move past it. It wouldn’t hurt so much in the long run. She was almost afraid of his reaction, but after a few minutes, Bellamy just sighed and nodded.

“If we’re going to be friends,” he said, stepping away from the fort and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “Then you should know that I’m always an asshole.”

“But you’re not,” Clarke told him, smiling. And he wasn’t. It would be so much easier if he were.

\--

“Don’t leave me,” Raven whined, pulling Clarke into her bed again. She was sick and Clarke had been taking care of her all morning. Raven was the biggest badass Clarke had ever known, but the second she got a summer cold, she turned into the biggest baby.

“I have to go to Bellamy’s,” Clarke reminded her, pulling her arm out of Raven’s grasp and stepping far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to reach her.

“You _always_ have to go to Bellamy’s,” Raven said, rolling onto her side to glare at Clarke. “Why is that?”

“Bellamy is my friend,” she said, trying—and failing—to keep her cheeks from flaring up. “He’s bringing Octavia to school today, so I told him I’d help him and Miller pack up the truck.”

“Seems like it doesn’t need to be a _four_ man job,” Raven said, pushing herself to sit up before coughing. When she was finished, she studied Clarke too closely and Clarke turned to leave. “You _like_ him.”

“Of course I like Bellamy,” she scoffed, trying to play it cool. She had to wait a few seconds before turning back to look at Raven, though, so she didn’t see the shocked expression on her face. “He’s my friend.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You _like_ him.”

Clarke considered denying it or leaving without another word, but she never could lie to Raven. Raven _always_ knew when Clarke was lying. It was like a sixth sense or something. It drove Clarke crazy.

“I’ve been feeling slightly un-friend-like toward him lately, yes,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. “Since that night last week where we just drove around.”

“And he showed you his little fort?” Raven asked, softer than Clarke would have expected.

“Apparently, emotionally vulnerable Bellamy is kind of a turn on.” Clarke shrugged and Raven laughed until she started coughing again.

“Listen, I am all here for you and Bellamy hooking up, but I don’t want either of you to get hurt,” Raven said after a minute. “If you _like_ him, tell him.”

“I’m not going to hook up with him. I’m definitely not going to tell him I have a _crush_ on him. I’m just going to ride it out on my own, be his friend, and whine to you every so often.”

“I still feel like you’re going to be the one getting hurt in that scenario,” Raven told her and Clarke shook her head insistently. “Or I am.”

“Shut up,” Clarke laughed and Raven smiled sadly at her. “I’m fine. It’s a crush, not the end of the world. He’s my friend more than anything, right?”

“Right. So, you should go. I’m fine,” Raven promised and Clarke nodded. She threw her hair into a knot on top of her head and left, looking back as Raven slid to lie down again. “ _Go._ ”

“I’m going!”

Clarke laughed and jogged out of Raven’s apartment, peeking into Roma’s room, because she just wanted it to be hers finally. Five more months and it would be, but she couldn’t imagine sleeping on a couch that much longer. The thought killed her.

\--

“You should stay here until Roma moves out,” Octavia said suddenly, stuffing her comforter into a trash bag. “I’m not going to be home much and I can always crash with you when I am. I’ve _sat_ on Monty and Jasper’s couch and I know it sucks.”

“I don’t think Bellamy wants me living with him,” Clarke said, forcing a laugh, because she couldn’t live with Bellamy, not while she was trying to get over her crush.

“Bellamy wouldn’t care,” Octavia scoffed. “Are you kidding me? He needs someone to take care of. You need a bed. I’m leaving a bed. It all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Bellamy asked as he and Miller walked into the near empty room. They were both dripping with sweat and Bellamy had, at some point, lost his shirt. Thankfully, Octavia answered him, because Clarke wasn’t sure she could even speak.

“Clarke living here until Roma moves out of Raven’s place.”

Clarke swallowed before looking at Bellamy again, actively trying to keep her cheeks from flaring up at the sight of his bare chest—which was _glistening_ , of all things.

He didn’t have time to respond, because Miller laughed loudly next to him, but she could see the look of surprise on his face.

“They’d kill each other,” Miller said, clutching his chest like it was honestly the funniest thing he had ever heard, which was kind of rude. At one point, they probably would have killed each other, but Clarke knew that wasn’t the case anymore.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Clarke said, offended.

“We would,” Bellamy said, looking at her, slightly amused now. Octavia scoffed, but Clarke just stood from the floor and folded her arms over her chest.

“Maybe a month ago we would have,” she said and watched as Bellamy considered it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head quickly, “but do you _want_ to move in with me?”

Miller laughed again and Clarke looked back at Octavia for backup, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. So, she took a deep breath and turned back to the boys.

“No,” she said and it kind of felt like a lie. But it wasn’t. She _couldn’t_ live with Bellamy. If she lived with Bellamy, she’d probably end up having sex with Bellamy. And she couldn’t have sex with Bellamy. They were _friends_ , and only just barely. “But, that doesn’t mean we’d kill each other. We’re friends! We’d be fantastic roommates.”

“Okay, then I _dare_ you to move in and see how long we actually survive.”

The room went quiet at that while Clarke and Bellamy stared each other down—arms crossed over their chests, eyes narrowed. She was so tempted to take the bait and agree to it because that’s the kind of person she’d become since starting at Polaris. Bellamy dared her to do something stupid—like challenge him in a power hour or break into the Wallaces’ pool—and she agreed because she was stubborn and couldn’t let him be right.

“Dude,” Miller finally said and Bellamy over at him. Clarke, on the other hand, couldn’t look away from Bellamy. “You’ve known each other for, like, two months and you hated her half that time.”

“Well, we’re friends now. Right, Clarke?” he asked and she looked at Miller because he was the only one thinking straight. He was the only one with enough sense to put a stop to this. But Miller knew Bellamy. He knew how stubborn he was. You put a challenge in front of him and he faces it head on. Just like Clarke.

Miller threw his hands up to let her know he was staying out of it from then on. Clarke dropped her arms and shook her head.

“You’re right,” she told Bellamy and he smirked. “We’re friends and living together would ruin that. And I don’t want to move in with you anyway. The couch is fine.”

“I love when you tell me I’m right,” Bellamy said, finally letting his arms relax and fall to his side and Clarke was reminded he was indeed shirtless.

“Well, it doesn’t happen often,” she mumbled, turning back to the box she’d been filling for Octavia. Bellamy moved around it so he was in front of her again and bent over to close it and pick it up.

“How much more, O?” he asked and Octavia looked around the room.

“That’s the last box,” she said, tying up her bag. “I’ll bring this out with you.”

Bellamy nodded and the two siblings left Clarke and Miller alone in Octavia’s bare room.

“Do you really think we’d kill each other?” she asked and Miller rolled his eyes. He leaned against the wall behind him and Clarke waited for him to answer.

“Either that,” he started, looking at her carefully, “or you’ll end up sleeping together and _that_ would ruin everything.”

Clarke could feel her cheeks heat up and Miller nodded seriously.

“Plus, I live here too and I don’t want to hear that or see that or know anything about that.”

“I’m not moving in,” Clarke told him. “Don’t worry. I’m also _not_ sleeping with Bellamy. Ever.”

“Oh, sweet, little Clarke,” Miller said with a laugh before turning to walk into his room. She waited until the door closed behind him before collapsing against the bed.

“You okay?”

Clarke sat up quickly to see Bellamy leaning in the doorway, buttoning up a plaid shirt. At least she could look at him without drooling.

“Exhausted,” she lied, standing up. “Are you guys leaving?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said slowly, like he was unconvinced with Clarke’s previous answer. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“I’m closing,” she told him, which was true, but irrelevant. “I’ll let you know how I feel later.”

“Okay.” He nodded toward the living room and Clarke followed him out.

Octavia was there, taking one last look around the house to see if she was forgetting anything. When she seemed satisfied, she smiled and launched herself into Clarke’s arms. They’d gotten close since Clarke was welcomed into Bellamy’s life and she was going to miss her. They squeezed each other for a minute while Bellamy looked on with a soft smile.

“I’ll see you soon,” Clarke promised when she pulled back and Octavia nodded quickly. “Have fun and don’t do what I did.”

“Stay in school, got it,” Octavia said and Clarke smiled as she walked into Bellamy’s side. She watched the two siblings leave the house and waited until she heard the car drive away before she left to drive back to Raven’s.

\--

Clarke laid in Raven’s bed, telling her about the conversation at Bellamy’s, and Raven listened intently. She hid her coughs and sneezes in her elbow while Clarke droned on. Because she couldn’t figure out why it annoyed her so much that Bellamy thought they’d kill each other.

“Because you want him to believe the other thing,” Raven said when Clarke mentioned it. “You want him to believe that you’ll have sex and fall madly in love, instead.”

“That’s not true,” Clarke huffed lamely. She turned onto her side and looked at Raven. “I don’t want it to be true.”

“This is worse than I thought this morning,” Raven said, sighing and Clarke laughed because she was pathetic. Seeing Bellamy shirtless had sent her tiny crush into a full blown infatuation. She was better than that. “I need to tell you something before this goes any further.”

“Oh god,” Clarke said and she sat up abruptly. Raven pulled her back down and held her there. “What?”

“Remember when you were at school last fall and I told you that I was sleeping with someone to get over Finn?” Raven asked carefully and Clarke let out a long whine when she realized what Raven was insinuating. “And I didn’t tell you, because to you, Bellamy meant nothing, right? You didn’t know him, you barely knew who he was. And, plus, it was just sex.”

“I shouldn’t care that you slept with Bellamy,” Clarke said and she _meant_ it.

“But you do. Which is why I needed to tell you.”

“You slept with him _a lot_ ,” Clarke recalled and Raven nodded. “Well. Crush over.”

“No,” Raven laughed, turning her head quickly so she could cough. “You and Bellamy weirdly make a lot of sense. I don’t even know why, really, but I can see it.”

“It’s a dumb crush,” Clarke said, shrugging it off. “You know, I lived down the hall from Anya all year when I had a huge crush on her. I can survive this thing with Bellamy. I’ll get over it.”

“Well,” Raven sighed, falling onto her back. “Just remember what you’re throwing away. I may have never had feelings for the guy, but Bellamy is _really_ good in bed.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’m heading to bed,” he trailed off and Miller laughed, crossing his arms to watch them both. Clarke just looked at Bellamy. “Do you…”
> 
> “Yeah,” Clarke said after he trailed off again. She stood up and looked anywhere but back at Miller, or even Bellamy. “I’ll go with you.”
> 
> “Cool.”
> 
> Bellamy turned quickly and walked down the hall to his bedroom and Clarke followed behind him. She hadn’t felt that uncomfortable in his house since her first night there. She didn’t like feeling that way with him.
> 
> “Goodnight, kids!” Miller called after them and Clarke could hear Bellamy sigh. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.
> 
> Or: Platonic bed sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I lost a lot of motivation after the "Bellarke shit" disaster. But I was revived after the picture of Bob and Eliza was posted. Plus, I could never quit Bellarke. They own me and I love them.

Bellamy was good in bed. _Of course_ Bellamy was good in bed. Not that Clarke knew firsthand, but she did know that she _wanted_ to know firsthand. But she meant it when she told Raven that she didn’t want to have feelings for Bellamy. Having feelings for him just made everything difficult. For her. Bellamy had no idea what was going on in her head.

And she had no _release_. Sleeping on a couch, thinking about Bellamy after late nights with him was torture. She’d wake up from a steamy dream in the middle of the night sweating and throbbing and she couldn’t _do_ anything about it because she was sleeping on someone else’s couch. Not to mention the fact that Monty and Jasper were known for staying up late at night playing videogames in their rooms and frequently tiptoeing out for snacks.

Clarke was miserable. She was desperate. And, worst of all, when she woke up one late night sweating, it wasn’t even because of a dream.

It was because it was the middle of summer and the air conditioner had shit the bed.

She could hear Jasper in his room whining about it over his Xbox and she got up from the couch to find him—shirtless, in his boxers, with two fans pointed at his face.

“We’re going to die,” he said and Clarke sighed, sliding onto the floor in front of his bed. He told whoever he was playing against that he had to go, shut off the TV, and pointed a fan toward Clarke. “I think we might actually die.”

“I’m going home!” Monty yelled and Clarke and Jasper rushed to their feet and into the hallway. Monty had a duffle bag and his hair was stuck to his face from the sweat. “I’ll call the landlord in the morning, but I can’t sleep here. Jasper’s right; we’ll die.”

Clarke followed him out into the living room while Jasper checked the thermostat. “Thank god we’re all working tomorrow,” he said, falling dramatically over the back of the couch. “Do you think if we open all the windows and doors, it’ll cool down?”

“I think you should go home, too,” Clarke said, pulling him to sit up. Monty stopped near the front door and Clarke could see that he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“What about you?” he asked and Clarke shrugged.

“I can tough it out for a few more hours,” she promised. “And if it doesn’t get fixed tomorrow, I’ll crash at Raven’s.”

“She went to visit her aunt,” Jasper said softly and Clarke sighed. “What about Bellamy?”

“ _What_ about him?” Clarke asked, trying to keep her voice normal and level.

“I don’t know if he has central air, but I’m sure he’s not sleeping in a sauna,” Jasper said with a casual shrug.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said, now pulling him to his feet. “I might not even need a place after tonight. And if worse comes to worse, I’ll beg my mother for a place to stay until our air is fixed. Now go home. There’re too many people in this sweatbox.”

“At least sleep in my bed with the fans,” Jasper offered and Clarke hugged him gratefully. Monty left and Jasper packed his backpack for the rest of the night while she watched from his bed.

“Thank you, Jasper,” she said and he nodded. She watched him leave and waited to hear the door close and lock before she rested back on his bed.

_A real bed_. It was even better than she remembered, even when the fans were just moving around hot air in her face and her shirt was sticking to her skin. Then she remembered she was home alone and the shirt came off so she was on top of the sheets in shorts and a sports bra. It was some kind of release, but not the kind she wanted or needed.

\--

“You’re early,” Bellamy said when he walked into the breakroom. Clarke was there, playing with her phone. “Really early.”

“I could not sit in that apartment any longer,” she told him and he sat down next to her and leaned his elbows on the table in front of him. She put her phone down and looked at him.

He was watching her, eyebrows slightly furrowed—like he was waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he nudged his shoulder against hers and she pretended it didn’t send a rush through her whole body.

“Our A/C broke in the middle of the night,” she explained. “Monty and Jasper went to their parents’ houses at, like, 3 in the morning. I had to sleep in Jasper’s room with his useless fans.”

“You couldn’t have gone home with them?” Bellamy asked and Clarke shook her head.

“I love them both, but that doesn’t mean I want to sleep in a twin bed with either of them,” she explained. Bellamy laughed and folded his arms on the table.

Clarke couldn’t look away from him even as he turned his eyes toward the door. They were unfocused, though, like he was thinking about something else entirely.

“What about a queen size bed?” he asked. His voice was careful, like he didn’t trust it—or himself.

“Well, if that were an option, it would be far more appealing,” she told him. She thought she sounded confident, but her heart was hammering in her chest as she waited for his follow-up. Just imagining what could come out of his mouth next made her nervous and excited. And she felt like a twelve-year-old with her first crush ever.

“Octavia took her A/C with her when she moved, but I’ve got one in my room,” Bellamy said slowly and Clarke just nodded. “And a queen size bed.”

“You know what?” she said, standing up even though she had nowhere to be. She wasn’t scheduled for another hour. She just needed a couple of feet of space before her mind got too cloudy and she actually took Bellamy up on his offer. “I’ll just buy one for the living room.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bellamy told her, finally looking at her again. It was like the chance to argue with her revived him and he could look at her like she was _Clarke_ and not some girl he was inviting into his bed for a night. Even if he didn’t mean it that way with Clarke. “There’s no point in buying one when they’re landlord is going to fix it in a couple of days.”

“I don’t even know if it’ll take a couple of days,” Clarke admitted, sitting down across from him now. “It might be getting fixed right now. Monty called him this morning.”

“Okay,” Bellamy breathed, stretching his arms out in front of him, like the conversation was causing him physical pain and he needed some kind of relief. “And if it’s not, take the offer I’m giving you and stay with me until it’s fixed. I don’t have cooties.”

Clarke couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her and she was glad to see Bellamy smile in return. “Okay,” she relented and she regretted it immediately. She couldn’t sleep in the same bed as Bellamy. That is the exact opposite of the release she needed. “If the A/C is still broken after my shift, I will stay with you.”

“God,” he laughed. “You make it sound like you just agreed to kill someone for me. Am I that hideous?”

“You’re pretty much the most disgusting being on this earth,” she lied and he rolled his eyes.

Clarke watched as he dug through his locker to take out his work polo. When he pulled off the gray t-shirt he was wearing, she tried to look away—really, she did—but she was captivated by the expanse of his chest and the deep lines of his abs. Even after he put on the black polo, she couldn’t look away.

“What?” he asked when he noticed her looking.

“Huh?”

Bellamy just shook his head and walked past her, pushing her head teasingly on his way out of the room.

“Fuck,” Clarke murmured, dropping her head to the table. Once and then twice.

There was no way Clarke could stay with Bellamy.

\--

Toward the end of the night, Clarke hadn’t seen Monty because Polaris was swamped and everyone was in the weeds. The only conversation she’d had that wasn’t work related was with Miller when he came up to her and teased her about the “slumber party” they’d have that night.

She finally snuck away to the kitchen when the dinner rush was slowing down and before the bar crowd came in. Monty was working the grill and she made her way to him, nodding at Jasper on the way.

“Not until Friday,” Monty said without looking up from the food in front of him. Clarke let out an audible sigh and he shrugged. “Bellamy already asked, so you can’t lie to him.”

“Why would you tell him anything?” Clarke demanded and Monty finally looked up at her. She knew how she sounded and Monty knew _her_.

“I thought he was making conversation,” he told her. “I didn’t know it was one of your stupid challenges until I told him the truth.”

“I can’t-“

“Why?” Monty asked, cutting her off, though she knew he was starting to get the idea. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Griffin!” Clarke rolled her eyes at the sound of Kane’s bark, but turned around with a forced smile. “You still have tables to close out.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder for Monty who just smiled at her.

On her way past the bar, she glanced over at Bellamy who was leaning across the bar, talking to a breathtakingly beautiful girl and Clarke’s stomach dropped. Then she remembered that Bellamy would be in bed with _her_ at the end of the night and, while the thought terrified her, it did make her feel slightly better.

She was a mess.

She closed out her last two tables while Bellamy talked to the same girl at the bar. She stopped and watched them for almost a full minute before someone came to stand next to her.

“When did this happen?”

Clarke looked at Monty and sighed, leaning into his side. “A couple of weeks ago,” she admitted. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you going to _tell_ him?” he probed and she scoffed.

“It’s not a big deal, Monty,” she reiterated. “Just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.”

“You could get under him.”

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed and the sound caught Bellamy’s attention. And the attention of the girl he’d been talking to.

“Are you ready?” Bellamy called, walking over to the side of the bar she was closest to.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked the way he left that girl behind without another word. It made Clarke feel wanted in some way, even if it wasn’t the way she wanted him. It was something.

“Aren’t you closing?” she asked him and he shook his head.

“I was technically done an hour ago,” Bellamy admitted and Clarke felt Monty’s slight nudge, like he was trying to tell her something. “I was just waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

“So, are you ready?” he asked again.

When he talked to her, he always focused solely on her, even though they were rarely the only two people in the room or, even, the conversation. And it was no different there in the bar. He’d been waiting for her to get off work even though she was driving herself and was intimately familiar with where his house was. Because he was Bellamy and that was the kind of person Bellamy was. He was a good friend. He was _Clarke’s_ good friend.

\--

Bellamy had beaten her back to his house, because Clarke needed to change out of her work clothes and shower back at Monty and Jasper’s. The door was unlocked when she got there, though, and Bellamy was lying across the couch in basketball shorts and a tank top.

“Welcome home,” he said with a smirk and Clarke rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor. Bellamy sat up to make room for her and she sat down and folded her legs under her.

There was no A/C in the living room, but there was one at the end of the hall that filled all of the common areas and Clarke was so happy to be anywhere but the boys’ apartment or Polaris. She rested comfortably against the worn cushions of Bellamy’s couch and let out a long sigh of relief.

Bellamy glanced over at her and smiled and she smiled back. “Thanks for letting me crash,” she told him and he shrugged easily.

“Any time,” he said and she knew he meant it. Just then her phone rang and she reached into her pocket and smiled so wide it almost hurt. “Someone special?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Clarke practically ran through the living room and kitchen before slipping through the back door to the back deck. She slid down the wall as she swiped on her phone to answer it.

“You’re alive!” she exclaimed and Wells laughed on the other end. “How are you?”

“How am _I_?” he asked, scoffing. “Your mother kicked you out of the house months ago and I just found out from _my father_. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Clarke promised, crossing her legs. “Really good.”

“Where are you staying?” he asked. “God, I can’t even imagine who you’re staying with.”

“Monty and Jasper,” she told him and he sighed, relieved. “Well, usually. Their air conditioner broke last night, so I’m staying with another friend until it’s fixed on Friday.”

“Raven?” Wells asks and Clarke shook her head until she remembered she was on the phone.

She realized that she hadn’t spoken to Wells since her last day at Yale when she told him she wouldn’t be going back. He’d been a camp counselor all summer with pretty much zero access to his phone. She wasn’t even sure how he was calling her now. But he had no idea who Bellamy was to Clarke. To Wells, Bellamy was just some kid who graduated a few years before them. He was Octavia Blake’s older brother. He was, pretty much, no one. But, that wasn’t who Bellamy was to Clarke. Not anymore. Never again.

“No, actually,” she swallowed. “I’m staying with Bellamy and-“

“Bellamy Blake?” he asked and she could hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, and his roommate is Miller,” she explained and Wells remained silent. She could hear a muffled voice in the background. “Where are you?”

“Airport,” he said and her mood instantly changed. “I’m coming home before I have to move back to school. I’ve got to move in early because I’m helping with the freshman orientation and move-in, so I convinced the camp to let me leave early. I’ll be home for a week.”

“Oh my god!” Clarke was practically yelling—she was aware of that—but she was just _so_ excited to see him. She really wasn’t expecting to until the holidays.

“I’m taking a redeye tonight,” he continued. “So, I expect to see you sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m not working. We’ll get dinner.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “I also expect to hear why you’re staying with _Bellamy Blake,_ of all people.”

“It’s not as exciting as you’re making it sound,” she promised. “But, I can’t wait to tell you anyway. Fly safe.”

“See you tomorrow, Clarke.”

Clarke pushed herself to her feet and went back inside. Bellamy was watching her over the back of the couch with one of his eyebrows raised. “Do you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?” he asked and she laughed.

“You’d know about any boyfriend or girlfriend I had,” she promised and she noticed the small, quick smile that flashed over Bellamy’s lips as she sat down next to him. “It was my friend, Wells. He’s coming home for the week.”

“Wells?” Bellamy asked, eyebrows raised and Clarke sighed. She knew what was coming. Raven had reacted the same way, but she and Wells were friends now, too. “Wells Jaha? The mayor’s son. You’re friends with the mayor’s son, Princess?”

“Don’t,” Clarke said, kicking him in the shin. “Don’t start with that.”

“I just didn’t know you had friends in such high places,” he said, shrugging.

“I don’t. My mother _does_. I have friends with fathers in high places. Wells isn’t the mayor. He’s nothing like the mayor, actually.” Bellamy just narrowed his eyes at her and she kicked him again. “Be nice.”

That made him smile and she felt a surge of pride. “So, he called to tell you he was coming home?” he asked and Clarke nodded. “Is he going to try and get you to go back to Yale and make up with your mom?”

“Nope,” she told him. She meant it, too. Wells knew how much Clarke hated Yale and pre-med. He knew how hard it’d been between her and her mother since her father died. He understood it all and he’d support her no matter what.

“Good,” Bellamy said, somewhat distantly. Clarke looked over at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was still nodding to himself, and she noticed him mouth the word _good_ over again. He was _happy_ that Wells couldn’t convince her to go back—to Yale or who she was when she was living her life for her mother instead of herself. He was happy to have her there with him.

\--

Miller got home and joined Clarke and Bellamy on the couch. He didn’t make any jokes in front of Bellamy, like he did when it was just him and Clarke. And Clarke was starting to think that he actually knew something rather than just assumed it. Too many people already knew about her feelings for Bellamy. Wells would know, too, the second she mentioned his name. He’d be able to see it all over her face.

It only got weird when Bellamy stood up to go to bed and he immediately realized he didn’t know how to go about what was going to happen.

“So,” he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’m heading to bed,” he trailed off and Miller laughed, crossing his arms to watch them both. Clarke just looked at Bellamy. “Do you…”

“Yeah,” Clarke said after he trailed off again. She stood up and looked anywhere but back at Miller, or even Bellamy. “I’ll go with you.”

“Cool.”

Bellamy turned quickly and walked down the hall to his bedroom and Clarke followed behind him. She hadn’t felt that uncomfortable in his house since her first night there. She didn’t like feeling that way with him.

“Goodnight, kids!” Miller called after them and Clarke could hear Bellamy sigh. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.

When she walked into his bedroom, he was pulling off his tank top and she stopped in the doorway. It was the second time that day he’d stripped off his shirt in front of her without warning. It was exactly the kind of thing she needed to be warned about, too. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and knew he’d see it the second he turned around. Damn her fair skin.

Instead of giving him the opportunity, Clarke actually _moved_ to the opposite side of the bed where Bellamy was standing. The air conditioner was already on the room was perfectly cool and she really was grateful he was letting her stay with him.

She folded down the covers and laid down carefully on her side so she was facing the wall instead of Bellamy’s bare back. She felt him get in next to her, though, and she couldn’t help but turn over and look at him.

“You’d think this was the first time I’ve ever shared a bed with someone,” Bellamy said through a sigh and she laughed. Well, she giggled actually.

“I think it’s weirder because we’re _not_ having sex,” she mused and he hummed in agreement. “And even when I do have sex with someone, I usually don’t share a bed with them. Dorm beds are small and uncomfortable for one person, let alone two. And it’s easier for people to sneak out of my mother’s house at night than in the morning.”

Bellamy just nodded along, folding his arms on top of the blanket that rested on his chest. Clarke could still see most of his chest and she was trying hard to look at his face instead of letting her eyes wander down. She focused on the small dimple in his chin—it was safe and, up close, it was even more adorable than usual.

“If it helps,” she started and he looked at her, “I can find somewhere else to stay tomorrow night. Maybe Wells can sneak me into his house.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Bellamy said and she kicked him under the blanket, making him smile. “We’re adults. We’re friends. You’re more than welcome here.”

“I’m glad we’re friends,” she admitted quietly and his smile returned, softer than before.

Clarke _was_ glad they were friends. She was glad their dislike for each other only lasted that first month. She didn’t know what she’d be doing without Bellamy in her life. He, his house, and his friends were such huge parts of her life. She’d be lost. And she’d be sweating.

\--

Bellamy wasn’t in bed when she woke up in the morning. His side of the bed was made messily and Clarke was surprised she hadn’t heard or felt him get up. But, then again, she’d slept _so_ well. The bed was so comfortable. Not to mention it was an actual bed directly next to a running air conditioner. She didn’t wake up once in the middle of the night.

She was more than willing to fall back to sleep before she heard Miller laugh in the kitchen. She figured she should probably get out of bed and grab her bag so she could change. She needed to think of something to do before her dinner with Wells, too, so she wasn’t making herself at home in Bellamy’s house. Sleeping there was one thing, lounging on the couch all day would be something else entirely.

She stretched out under the covers and then rolled out of bed. She could hear Bellamy and Miller talking as she made the bed, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. When she finally left the bedroom and walked down the hall, Miller was sitting at the table with a coffee in front of him. Bellamy was at the stove, still shirtless— _damn it_ —making what looked and smelled like pancakes.

“Morning,” she called out and Bellamy nodded at her over his shoulder. Miller smiled knowingly at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“There’s coffee in the pot and milk in the fridge,” Bellamy told her and she nodded to herself, but then remembered she didn’t know where his mugs were in the kitchen. She went to stand next to Bellamy and glanced over his arm to see that he was, in fact, making pancakes. _Chocolate chip pancakes_. “Get away before you start drooling on our breakfast.” He nudged her hip with his own and she laughed.

“Where are your mugs?” she asked finally because she really needed coffee.

“Over the microwave,” Miller answered and she thanked him.

While she prepared her coffee, Bellamy continued cooking and she couldn’t stop staring at his back. He had a good back. And a good front. And knowing that made the need for a release hit her harder than before.

“You should crash here more often,” Miller told her and she looked at him like he was insane. “Bellamy never makes me breakfast.”

“You’re not a guest,” Bellamy reminded him as he walked over with a plate of pancakes. He put it down in front of Clarke and Miller scoffed. “Guests get served first.”

“She’s not a guest! She’s Clarke!”

“And Clarke doesn’t live here,” Clarke said with a smile as she cut into her pancakes. “Which makes me a guest.”

“You practically live here,” he muttered and Bellamy smacked him in the back of the head.

When Bellamy finally sat down, directly across from Clarke, he looked at her and asked, “What are your plans for the day? Seeing the prince?”

“Shut up,” she said with no heat and Miller looked between them. “And, yes, but not until dinner.”

“Who is the prince?” Miller asked.

“The mayor’s son,” Bellamy explained and Miller smiled.

“Wells is back?” he asked and Bellamy rolled his eyes as Clarke nodded excitedly. “What? I like Wells. He’s good people.”

“See?” Clarke said, tossing a fallen chocolate chip at Bellamy and he glared at her. “Wells is good people, Bellamy. If Miller says so, it must be true.”

“You have very little faith in me if you think I agree with Miller one hundred percent of the time,” Bellamy said and she smiled. “I didn’t say he wasn’t good people. I just forget that you two run in very different circles than I do.”

“Dude, you’re, like, the center of our circle,” Miller said and both Bellamy and Clarke looked at him. He was right and that shocked Clarke because it hadn’t even been one summer and he was _the center of her circle_. For Miller, it made sense—they’d been friends for years. But for Clarke? It was crazy that it was true. “Our parents just liked to drag us into their circles every so often.”

“I’m the center of your circle?” Bellamy asked and Miller shrugged. Then Bellamy looked at Clarke. “And you?”

“You’re Miller’s best friend. Your friends are his friends. Hell, your house is his house,” she said, avoiding his question.

“But what about me and _you_?”

Clarke swallowed and saw Miller’s eyes widen out of the corner of her eye. She shrugged, still watching Bellamy, because what was the point in lying? “Your friends are my friends,” she said. “My friends are your friends. Your house is the one place other than Polaris we all spend time together. You’re the center.”

“Well, then.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to be my only friend that has time for me,” she told him and he squeezed her hand until her eyes met his again. Everything seemed so intensely intimate when they were lying in bed together.
> 
> “They’ll have time for you, too,” he promised and she just rolled her eyes. She felt selfish—complaining that her friends were going to be busy when she made the decision to leave school—but she also felt the magic of the summer start to disappear. And the summer had been magical, no matter how simple it was. “But, yeah, I’ll be around a lot more than they will. You’re going to get sick of me.”
> 
> “I already am,” she lied and he chuckled, his warm, freshly minted breath blowing in her face.
> 
> “You’re going to be fine, Clarke. You know that,” he said after a moment.
> 
> “I do know that,” she agreed. “The gravity of my decisions are starting to hit me and I’m just freaking out a little. I’ll be okay.”
> 
> “You already are, as far as I can tell. I mean,” Bellamy trailed off, letting go of her hand suddenly, like he only just realized he’d been holding it the whole time. “You’re in bed with me. This is as good as it gets.”
> 
> Or: Way more touching than I realized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like, WAY more touching.

“I can’t believe you’re making me come here on my _day off_ ,” Clarke said to Wells as they walked into Polaris. Fox smiled at her from the host stand and Clarke smiled back absently, looking around the dining room.

“I’ve missed the chicken parm!” Wells said and Clarke sighed. She’d miss the chicken parm if she were in his shoes, so it made sense, but still. It was her day off. “Hey, isn’t that Bellamy Blake?” he asked, nodding toward the doorway between the dining room and the lounge.

“He’s not supposed to be here,” Clarke said, taking his hand and pulling him toward Bellamy. “And stop using his full name. It’s weird.”

“Tell me you’re not here right now,” Bellamy said when they reached him. He only briefly glanced at Wells before looking at their joined hands and then at Clarke.

“Tell me _you’re_ not here right now,” Clarke countered and he shrugged. “When I left, you still weren’t wearing a shirt.” Not that she was paying that much attention to his bare chest, but… Well, she was.

“Well, you left and Miller is working and Raven is gone and everyone else is here. I was bored.”

“Are you working?” she asked while Wells looked from her to Bellamy, like their conversation was some kind of tennis match.

“Just for a couple of hours,” Bellamy said. “Miller is training the new girl and I want to make sure she knows what she’s doing.”

“She doesn’t. It’s her first night,” Clarke reminded him and his lips curled upward. “This is Wells, by the way. Wells, this is Bellamy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wells said, wrenching his hand from Clarke’s grip so he could offer it to Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at it for a second before shaking it. “You too.”

“We’re going to sit in the lounge. Is that cool?” Clarke asked while the two men considered each other carefully.

“I’ll let Fox know,” Bellamy said and Clarke smiled, dragging Wells again until they were seated in Harper’s section.

As soon as they sat down, Kane spotted them and came over to say hi to Wells. “It’s good to see you back in town, Wells,” he said and Wells stood to shake his hand. Wells was big into handshakes.

“Nice to see you, too, Mr. Kane,” he said and Clarke choked on a laugh. Kane smiled at her, amused himself, and she shrugged. “What?”

“You can call me Marcus now, I think,” Kane said and Clarke laughed again. “You’re an adult. And Clarke is laughing because the kids here all just call me Kane.”

“You’re an adult,” Clarke said. “But we’re all kids. Lucky you.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Kane said, head tipped toward her—very serious.

“I know,” she promised.

“Good,” he nodded before turning back to Wells. “Your father said you’d be here for a week. Don’t be a stranger.”

“No, sir,” Wells said and Marcus smiled his tight, little smile and headed for his office. “So, how is it working with one of your mother’s best friends?”

“We made a deal to keep our work life and our private lives separate,” Clarke said. “We haven’t had a problem. He treats me like everyone else here.”

“Like you’re his kid.”

“We’re all his kids,” Clarke agreed and Wells smiled a little. “What?”

“Things could be a lot worse for you than they are,” Wells told her and she knew it was true. She could be miserable and getting ready to go back to Yale. She could be sleeping on the same couch with no way to contribute or move forward. But she had a job and she had friends. A good job and _really_ good friends. “You’re doing really well.”

“And I don’t need Yale or my mother,” she said, smiling proudly.

“Can I ask you something, though?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t get defensive,” Wells started and Clarke nodded for him to continue. “What’s going to happen in the fall when they all start classes again? I mean, they’re all at State, right? What are you going to do?”

The thought had crossed Clarke’s mind once or twice, but she never dwelled on it. Raven and Miller would be juniors. Monty and Jasper were going to be sophomores, like Clarke would have been. They’d all be going back to school come September, but not her. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She’d be bored, that’s for sure. She’d work a lot of lunch shifts, probably, maybe even pick up a second job.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s going to be a whole new thing I’ll need to work through. I wanted a change in my life and I still do. There are just more changes to come, more things I need to figure out. I _will_ figure it out.”

Wells looked at her then, with a soft smile and kind eyes—like the girl sitting across from him was the same girl he’d always loved, but also someone new. That’s how Clarke felt, at least.

“Okay.”

After that, the conversation flowed easily. Harper took their order and brought their food. Miller stopped by to say hi to Wells. He hung around for a second and told Clarke he’d see her at “home” before heading back to the bar and the new bartender.

“Home, huh?” Wells asked, head cocked to the side in genuine interest.

“Bellamy’s home is Miller’s home, you know that. I told you that last night.”

“It sounded more like a collective home when Miller said it, like _you_ were part of that collection.”

“Just until tomorrow,” Clarke reminded him. “Bellamy’s doing me a favor—letting me stay with him. That’s all.”

“It’s not, though. Is it?”

Clarke knew he would figure it out, but that didn’t mean she was willing for fess up to anything just yet. “Nope,” she said, looking down at her plate. “That’s it.”

“I don’t think so.” Clarke sighed and slowly looked up at her best and oldest friend. She didn’t want to lie to him about a stupid crush, but she also didn’t want the stupid crush to get back to Bellamy. “Are you two, like… Together? Dating or hooking up? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Just as she was about to laugh in his face at the ridiculousness of his question, a hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up to find Bellamy looking down at her.

“Kane said he was going to fire me if I didn’t leave,” he sighed and she couldn’t help but laugh. Bellamy rolled his eyes and squeezed her shoulder. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I left and make sure you were coming over later.”

“Am I still welcome?” she asked and he pretended to think about it.

“No.” He smiled and she elbowed him in the thigh. “But I’ll let you stay over anyway.”

“Go home. I’ll see you there later.”

“Cool,” he said, nodding. Then his smile slipped off his face and he looked at Wells. “Nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around before you leave.”

“Seems like it,” Wells agreed. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Clarke smiled up at Bellamy one last time and he nodded at her before leaving. When she looked back at Wells, he was smiling at her knowingly. “We’re not together in any way,” she told him. “Not dating, not sleeping together. Nothing.”

“But you like him,” he said and she rolled her eyes. “You do! I’m not new at this, Clarke. I know when you like someone.”

“He’s my friend,” she said through her teeth, but Wells’ teasing smile didn’t disappear. “In the same way that Raven is your friend.”

“So you do like him,” he concluded and she just shrugged.

\--

When Clarke got back to Bellamy’s house, the living room was empty, but the hallway light was on. She knew Miller was still at work and wouldn’t be home until after Polaris closed. Bellamy’s car was in the driveway, so he had to be home, but there were no sounds coming from the house and all the bedroom doors were all closed.

She decided she’d just grab her clothes from the bag that was in the living room and change in the bathroom, just so she didn’t have to wake him up if he was already asleep. She couldn’t imagine he was at only 10 o’clock, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

When she was finished she opened his bedroom door just a crack and saw him in bed—wide awake, reading a book.

“You wear reading glasses?” she asked—nearly yelled in surprise—as she plowed into his bedroom. “How did I not know this?”

“Have you ever seen me reading?” he asked, putting his book down on his chest and pushing the plastic frames into his hair. He wore a small, amused smile on his face and a tank top on his chest—thankfully.

“Well, no, I guess not,” she admitted and Bellamy shrugged. She sat down on the bed, on top of the covers and looked down at him. “What are you reading?”

She reached for the book on his chest and saw it was actually a collection of poems and when she looked at his face, she saw a tiny hint of pink in his cheeks. It was ridiculously sweet. “This is a good one,” she said, putting the book back down. “His second one is even better, though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said and she nodded. She rested back against the pillows and turned on her side. “How was your dinner?”

“It was good,” she said. “It was really nice to see Wells. I’ve missed him a lot.”

“I’m sure,” Bellamy said and Clarke looked at his passive face. She moved closer to him—mostly to get his attention, but also because she had little to no self-control—and he looked at her in surprise.

“What’s it going to be like when everyone else starts classes and I don’t?” she asked and he huffed, rolling onto his side.

The book he’d been reading slid off his chest and landed in the small space between them. Clarke reached for it at the same time Bellamy did and she swore she blacked out for a second when their hands met. She was stunned—embarrassingly so—at the tiny, innocent touch and didn’t even think to move her hand. She’s not sure why he didn’t move his, but it stayed there—on top of her hand that was clutching the book.

“It’s going to suck,” he told her honestly and she nodded. “But you’ll get used to it. We’ll work a lot of day shifts. They’ll work a lot of nights. They’ll be busy with homework. We’ll do anything to pass the time. But, you know, you can go back to school any time you want. If it’s that bad, just go to State in the spring. Or, I don’t know, go to Harvard like I told you to months ago.”

Clarke smiled and glanced down at their hands. She wasn’t going to Harvard any time soon. She wasn’t going to Harvard at all. And she didn’t want to go to State unless she had a reason to. She had _no_ idea what she would go to school for if it wasn’t medicine. She didn’t want to go back to school just yet. That’s not what she was worried about. She was worried about feeling lost and alone while everyone else had bigger, more exciting things to focus on than each other. That’s how she felt when she was pulled away from them the last fall, when she went to Yale and Connecticut by herself.

“You’re going to be my only friend that has time for me,” she told him and he squeezed her hand until her eyes met his again. Everything seemed so intensely intimate when they were lying in bed together.

“They’ll have time for you, too,” he promised and she just rolled her eyes. She felt selfish—complaining that her friends were going to be busy when she made the decision to leave school—but she also felt the magic of the summer start to disappear. And the summer _had_ been magical, no matter how simple it was. “But, yeah, I’ll be around a lot more than they will. You’re going to get sick of me.”

“I already am,” she lied and he chuckled, his warm, freshly minted breath blowing in her face.

“You’re going to be fine, Clarke. You know that,” he said after a moment.

“I do know that,” she agreed. “The gravity of my decisions are starting to hit me and I’m just freaking out a little. I’ll be okay.”

“You already are, as far as I can tell. I mean,” Bellamy trailed off, letting go of her hand suddenly, like he only just realized he’d been holding it the whole time. “You’re in bed with me. This is as good as it gets.”

Clarke knew she was supposed to laugh, but she could only muster up an amused smile. “You’re an idiot,” she told him as she rolled onto her back.

“Yet, here you are.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “What does that say about me?”

\--

Sitting on Raven’s couch stuffed between Wells and Raven, Clarke was content. She’d survived two nights in Bellamy’s bed without falling deeply, madly in love with him. The air conditioner at the boys’ apartment was fixed and she’d spent the night back on her faithful couch. Raven was back. Wells was back. Everything was as it should be.

“So, Wells tells me you and Bellamy are in love,” Raven said, breaking the spell. Clarke sighed and pulled her knees to her chest, like it were some kind of armor. “I told him I already knew that.”

“No one is in love,” Clarke said and both of her friends laughed. “Except maybe you two.”

“Ha ha,” Raven said dryly, but Clarke could see a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks. It wasn’t often Raven blushed, so Clarke knew she was right. Whatever was going on between Raven and Wells had been going on since Clarke and Wells’ senior year of high school. The two had never dated, but Clarke was pretty sure they were meant to be. And, yet, Clarke wasn’t even sure she believed in that sort of thing.

“But seriously,” Clarke said, leaning to lay her head on Raven’s shoulder. “We both know Bellamy’s not in love with me.”

“Do we know that?” Raven asked, running a comforting hand over her head. “I’m not so sure.”

Clarke was sure. Bellamy treated Clarke the same way he treated everyone—like a friend. “Well, you’ll see how wrong you both are tonight.”

“So, what is this party for, exactly?” Wells asked and Clarke and Raven both looked at him like he was crazy. “Someone’s birthday?”

“No,” they said in unison and Wells stared at them.

“It’s just a party,” Raven said.

“It’s a Saturday night and Bellamy is only working until 7,” Clarke explained. “We’ll go over, play some drinking games, be too loud, and have some fun. We don’t need a reason to celebrate.”

“So, what time are you working until?” Wells asked, looking from Clarke to Raven—but focusing on Raven for just a few seconds longer.

“I’ll be out at 9,” Clarke said before glancing back at Raven.

“Me too,” Raven said. “We have to go in soon, but I can pick you up on my way to Bellamy’s tonight.”

“Sure,” Wells agreed with a smile and Clarke smiled to herself. She wasn’t going to mention how Wells’ house was completely out of the way from Polaris to Bellamy’s.

When Wells left Raven’s, Clarke almost followed him out so she could go and get ready for work, but Raven held her back.

“Wells is worried about this Bellamy thing,” she said and Clarke rolled her eyes. “He thinks it’s more than a crush and that you’re going to get hurt. He also isn’t sure he trusts Bellamy, but I made sure he knew he had nothing to worry about there.”

“Good,” Clarke sighed. “And it _is_ a crush. He’s my friend more than anything.”

“How was sharing a bed with him?” Raven pressed and Clarke just smiled.

“You’d know.”

“That’s hilarious,” Raven laughed and Clarke’s eyes narrowed on their own accord. “I never slept in Bellamy’s bed and he never slept in mine. We were just playthings to each other and then we went our separate ways.”

“Huh,” Clarke mused and Raven looked at her pointedly. Clarke hated when she looked at her like that—like she knew Clarke better than Clarke knew herself. “I’ve got to go,” she said quickly, changing the subject. “See you at work.”

\--

Clarke walked into Bellamy’s house alone. She was still in her khaki shorts and black t-shirt from work, but so were half the people at the party. Bellamy had changed into jeans and a blue t-shirt that stretched over his chest every time he threw a ping pong ball.

He was playing against Monty—who almost always won—and looked a little annoyed. She avoided the table and headed for the kitchen where she found Jasper and Harper taking shots. She felt much more at home doing that than watching beer pong.

“Oh, perfect,” Jasper said, pulling her into his side and handing her a shot glass. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What? Harper can’t keep up?” she teased and Harper shook her head and backed away. Clarke turned to Jasper and clinked her tiny glass against his. They took down their shots effortlessly and smiled triumphantly. Shots? Clarke could do. Dealing with her growing feelings for Bellamy and his tight t-shirts? Not so much.

They took one more shot before Clarke noticed Wells and Raven enter the party and she told Jasper she’d meet him back in the kitchen later. On her way to greet her two best friends, though, she ran directly into the t-shirt clad chest of Bellamy.

“I didn’t even see you come in,” he mentioned, hands on her hips to steady her.

“You were too busy losing to Monty,” she teased and he rolled his eyes. He still held her hips and she was so tempted to put her hands on his chest. It would be so simple and natural. “Poorly, by the way.”

“I’ve always been a bit of a sore loser,” he admitted. “I wasn’t built for competition.” His voice was so low and Clarke knew he was serious, but she wasn’t sure why his tone had changed so drastically. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try, though.”

“Good. Trying is good,” she said, nodding slowly, catching Raven’s pointed stare. “Wells and Raven just got here. I should go say hi.”

Bellamy nodded, letting go of her finally, and walked away without another word.

“What was that?” Wells asked, in front of her all of a sudden. “Looked intense.”

“I have no idea,” Clarke admitted, looking over her shoulder at Bellamy’s retreating back. “He’s being weird.”

“Weird,” Raven laughed. “Oh, Clarke.”

“Shut up,” Clarke warned and Raven laughed again. She grabbed Clarke’s hand and drew her deeper into the house.

The three of them ended up in the kitchen again, but instead of shots, Raven concocted something out of Bellamy’s small array of liquors. It wasn’t great, but it’d do the trick. A small group of friends joined them—Jasper, Harper, Monroe, and, eventually, Monty when Miller had finally defeated him.

They started a game of Never Have I Ever—a game that Clarke _hated—_ and more people joined them. Miller ended up in the circle, right next to Monty, and Bellamy snuck in during the second round. He stepped right up next to where Clarke leaned against the counter and tapped his solo cup against hers.

Their friends went around the circle, starting easy, and Clarke only put down one finger by the time it was her turn. She hated the game because she wasn’t great under pressure, but she always played her part. “Never have I ever had sex in a friend’s bed,” she said and Jasper drank immediately.

“Does it count if I was having sex with my friend in their bed?” Harper asked and Bellamy hummed in agreement next to Clarke and she immediately hated her own question.

“That’s a valid question,” Miller said, pointing his cup at Clarke.

“I say no,” Raven offered and Clarke glanced up at Bellamy for his reaction. He had none.

“I don’t think so,” Clarke agreed.

Raven drank anyway and Clarke laughed, knowing exactly the moment she was drinking to, and Miller drank up, too. “Sorry, Bellamy,” he said and Bellamy sighed.

“You’re room is _right_ next to mine,” Bellamy whined and Miller shrugged.

“But yours was closer.”

“I hate you,” Bellamy said and Miller smiled. Bellamy leaned his forehead against the top of Clarke’s head and groaned in frustration. It was dramatic, but it was also hilarious.

They went around the circle one more time before Wells was the only one left with a finger raised. Clarke was leaning heavily against him and his arm was around her shoulder when he won and she squeezed him when he won.

“No more games,” Clarke said and Jasper agreed immediately. He passed out shot glasses before filling them up and then he made Bellamy give a toast.

“This is ridiculous,” Bellamy said holding up his shot glass. “But, uh, thanks for coming. Thanks for making a mess of my house. And,” he glanced briefly at Clarke and smiled, “thanks for making this a really good summer.”

Everyone called out a cheers and did their best to make sure their shot glass connected with everyone else’s. After Clarke took down her shot, she stayed behind in the kitchen with Miller, Monty, and Bellamy.

She pushed herself to sit on the counter, though, and Bellamy leaned across her legs to reach for a bottle of tequila. He filled up both of their shot glasses while Miller and Monty leaned their heads together to laugh about something.

“Do you think that’s going to happen before the summer ends?” Bellamy asked quietly, tipping his head toward their friends.

Clarke touched her shot glass to his and said, “We can only hope.” Bellamy smiled and they took their shots.

Clarke took his glass from his hand and put it down with her own so they wouldn’t take any more shots. She was well past buzzed and sliding into very drunk and another shot would probably throw her over the line. And she knew Bellamy was getting there, too, by the way he was using her legs and lap to hold him upright—even though he had the counter behind him.

Without thinking too long or hard, Clarke picked her hand up from the counter and ran it over Bellamy’s curls. They were just as soft as she imagined, even when they were laced with sweat from the amount of body heat in the house. He hummed under her touch and rested back so his cheek was against her shoulder. She ran her nails against his scalp and his hand gripped her hip lightly. She was afraid to look down at him, but she imagined his eyes were closed by the way he hummed deeper. She could feel that hum throughout her own body and the grip on her hip tightened slightly.

She looked only at the floor, pretending the two of them were alone and not in the middle of a party in  his house, surrounded by their friends. She was sure she’d regret it in the morning, but it felt really nice in the moment.

“You shouldn’t drive home,” he said suddenly, looking up at her and she swallowed before her eyes swept to his. “Too many shots.”

“Said the man who gave me with that last shot,” Clarke laughed and Bellamy smiled at her, like he was kind of proud of himself.

“I’ll drive her home,” Wells said, suddenly in front of them. Bellamy stood up and away from Clarke’s body and Clarke glared at her friend. “I was just coming to find you.”

“You found her,” Bellamy said and both Clarke and Wells looked at him. He was weak on his feet, leaning heavily against the counter, and Clarke lept down to hold him up. He was drunker than she’d thought.

Wells sudden appearance and the conversation that followed caught Miller and Monty’s attention and Miller was on Bellamy’s other side in a second. “I’ve got this,” he told Clarke and she nodded. She didn’t let go of Bellamy’s arm, though.

“And I’ve got you,” Wells said to her, offering her his hand. Clarke hesitated, looking up at Bellamy, and was stunned at the intensity in his return look. “Clarke.”

“I’m coming,” she said, still looking at Bellamy. He nodded at her, as if to tell her to go, and she finally let go of him and put her hand in Wells.

Raven was waiting at the door when Clarke and Wells got there and she smiled at Clarke. “Stay with me tonight,” Raven said to her and Clarke almost shook her head. But she _wanted_ to go to Raven’s and have someone be there with her in the morning when she woke up and remembered the events of the night.

“Okay,” she nodded and Wells let her go.

“I’ll drive your car back to my dad’s,” Wells said. “And pick you up sometime tomorrow, okay?”

“I have to work at 5,” she told him and he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he promised.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well,” Kane said, standing in front of them suddenly, “you’re much closer with Bellamy. Direct contact will get you sick a lot faster.”
> 
> “Direct contact?” Raven asked as Clarke sat up so quickly that her already pounding head nearly knocked her out. The amusement in Raven’s voice was evident that Kane elaborated.
> 
> “Yes,” he said, looking carefully at Clarke. “You’re a smart girl, Clarke. You know that…” he trailed off, uncomfortable all of a sudden, “kissing can lead to-“
> 
> “No!” Clarke nearly screamed, catching Niylah’s attention as well. “No kissing. Bellamy and I do not kiss. No kissing at all.”
> 
> Or: Clarke's not so subtle about her feelings.

“I think we officially have the best looking bartending staff in the state,” Clarke mused as she leaned against the back wall of the lounge. Raven stood on one side of her and Monty on the other.

Miller and the new girl—Niylah—were finishing up their shift while Bellamy and the other new bartender—Lincoln—prepared to close in a few hours. It was slow for a Saturday night thanks to the amazing weather and people trying to take advantage of it before August ended and school started up again.

“We definitely do,” Monty agreed as he watched Miller leave and head for the breakroom. “Do you think Bellamy knows he’s working with his sister’s secret boyfriend?”

“I don’t think he does,” Raven said, a sly smile playing at her lips. “But I can’t wait until he finds out.”

“I can,” Clarke said, already knowing how he’d react. With Octavia gone at school, Bellamy become even more protective of her. If he knew that the new bartender wanted Sundays off so he could drive up and visit her, Clarke was pretty sure he’d explode.

“You don’t want to see him hulk out?” Monty asked and Clarke rolled her eyes. “He’ll get so angry, he’ll have to rip his shirt right off his body. You don’t want to see that?”

“Why don’t you leave and pretend you’re not going to hook up with Miller?” Clarke shot back. “We’ll pretend you’re just going home alone.”

“I hate you,” Monty said, but he was laughing. And he did leave—no doubt to hook up with Miller.

“This whole summer has just turned our sweet, innocent group of friends into one, incestuous mess,” Raven said and Clarke laughed so loudly that both Bellamy and Lincoln glared at her from behind the bar.

“It’s only Monty and Miller,” Clarke reasoned with her quietly, watching Bellamy pour a drink for a customer. “And you and Wells.”

“Hey,” Raven snapped. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that until Thanksgiving when I could relive it.”

“Sorry,” Clarke laughed again and Raven sighed, crossing her arms. “And it is abundantly clear that nothing will happen between me and Bellamy.”

“I think it’s the exact opposite, actually,” Raven said.

After the party at his house and all the shots and touching they did, Clarke and Bellamy hadn’t spent much time together outside of work. Clarke knew she’d been awkward around him the day after it happened, but it was only because she wasn’t sure what he remembered. It’d been two weeks, though, and things weren’t awkward, per se, but they were different.

Clarke was about to comment, but stopped when she saw Kane coming toward her and Raven. “Hello, girls,” he said and Clarke stood up straighter and tightened her apron around her waist—as if that would make it look like she had actual work to do.

“Can we go home?” Raven asked bluntly. Her single, raised eyebrow didn’t have the effect on Kane that it did on most people, but he shrugged nonetheless. There really was no reason for them to be there.

“You both opened, so you’re the first two to get cut,” he said and they both smiled. “Just do your side work and tip out the bar before you leave.”

“You are my favorite boss,” Raven said and Kane rolled his eyes with a smile before walking away. Clarke and Raven set up a station at the bar to roll their silverware and divide their tips. Bellamy put sodas down in front of them and leaned his elbows between them.

“You look like shit,” Clarke commented as his head lowered toward them. And he did. His eyes were red and he looked clammy. She had no doubt that if she touched his hair—again, which she’d never do as long as she lived—it would be sweaty.

“Thanks, Princess,” he said and she groaned at the nickname that wouldn’t die. It made him smile just a little, though, so she didn’t mind it _so_ much.

“What’s wrong, Blake?” Raven asked, sliding him her cut of the bar tips.

“I think I’m dying, but I can’t be sure,” he told her and then he and Raven looked at Clarke. “What do you think, doc?”

“I think you forget that I dropped out of college after one year,” she said, looking him over. “But I also think that you have a cold and need to take it easy for a couple of days. You closed last night, opened this morning, and are, somehow, closing again tonight. Don’t you _do_ the bar schedule?”

“Yes,” he said, defensive all of a sudden. “But Miller hasn’t had a night off in a month, so I had to work it in tonight before he quits on me.”

“Heavy lies the crown,” Clarke muttered and Bellamy shrugged. “Seriously, take advantage of your day off tomorrow. Rest and fluids.”

“You’re wasting your time here,” he said, standing tall again. “Yale’s going to miss you when classes start up and you’re not there.”

With that, he walked away to help actual customers and offer some advice to Lincoln while he made a complicated drink. “You should go over tomorrow and take care of him like you always take care of me when I’m sick,” Raven offered, paying close attention to the silverware she was rolling.

“The difference there is that you actually _want_ me to take care of you,” Clarke reminded her. “I don’t think Bellamy feels the same way.”

“Only one way to find out.”

\--

**_Clarke:_ ** _How are you feeling?_

Clarke stared at her phone screen, waiting for the bubble to appear that showed Bellamy was texting back. And as soon as she saw it, she felt like a complete loser. A bubble with three blinking dots sent her heart racing.

**_Bellamy:_ ** _Pretty sure your diagnosis was wrong. I am definitely dying._

**_Clarke:_ ** _Oh my god. You’re worse than Raven when she’s sick._

**_Bellamy:_ ** _I’m not sick, Clarke. I’m DYING._

He was a baby. And Clarke hated that she found the whole thing endearing.

She didn’t text him back, but she did peel herself off of the couch and left the apartment without a second thought. She only thought about it when she pulled up outside of Bellamy’s house and she felt like a major creep. But they were friends, right? So it wasn’t a big deal to show up uninvited, even if things were slightly weird between them.

Clarke got out of her car and walked to the front door, feeling like some kind of Girl Scout with no cookies to sell. What was she even doing there? What excuse— _really_ —did she have?

When she knocked on the door, Bellamy coughed and then called out for her to come inside. She did so slowly, peeking her head around the door first, and smiled when he looked up at her. His nose was running and his face was a little red, but he looked pleased to see her.

“I was hoping you weren’t texting me back because you were driving,” he said and he sounded revolting.

“Why?” she asked, finally coming all the way inside. He sat up, so he was only taking up one cushion instead of three, and she sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

“I hate _taking it easy_ ,” he said, trying—and failing—to mimic her voice. “And you know I can’t sit around at home all day with nothing to do and no one to hang out with.”

“You hang out by yourself all the time,” she told him and he scoffed, like she was wrong. But she wasn’t. She knew how he liked to lock himself away every so often to read or do whatever. He had no problem telling people he wouldn’t be going out or having people over because he’d rather have some time to himself.

“But only when it’s my choice.”

“Sounds a little needy, Bellamy,” she said, laughing.

“So? I’m a little needy. And I _need_ a grilled cheese sandwich,” he said, smiling proudly at his wordplay. He started to stand, but Clarke beat him to it and shoved him back down by his shoulder. Shoulders, she’d decided, were the only safe place to touch Bellamy.

“You’re sick. I’ve got this,” she said and he coughed in return. “You’re also disgusting,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.

Standing alone in his kitchen, Clarke took a deep breath and leaned heavily against the counter. After two weeks of awkward encounters and no time alone, she was in his house and it was just the two of them. He was sick and needy and Clarke wanted to be there for him—as a friend, of course. It was all just a little overwhelming.

She knew his house well enough that she knew exactly where to find all the supplies she needed to make them sandwiches. By the time she was finished, Bellamy was lying across all three of the cushions again and she didn’t have it in her to make him move. She put his sandwich on the coffee table right next to his glass of water and she sat down on the floor with her back against the couch.

“I can move,” he said and she smiled at him softly over her shoulder and shook her head.

“You’re dying, remember?” she asked and he nodded, glancing down quickly at his sandwich. Awkward.

\--

“How long have you been asleep on my living room floor?”

Clarke shook awake at the sound of Miller’s voice and she opened her eyes to see him smirking at her with his arms crossed. She turned her head so she wasn’t looking at him anymore and was surprised to see Bellamy’s sleeping face inches from her own. She turned the other way and saw his arm hanging over her shoulder so that his hand was right near her boob.

“Too long,” she told Miller, moving Bellamy’s arm off of her so she could slide over and stand up. She felt stiff after sleeping on the floor while sitting up and she stretched her arms over her head to alleviate some of it. “What time is it?”

She looked around for her phone, but saw it was on the couch, under Bellamy’s leg and she didn’t want to deal with that or wake him up. Not at the moment, at least.

“Almost 6,” Miller said, glancing at his own phone. “How’s he feeling?”

“He was the same as yesterday before he fell asleep,” she told him, looking back at Bellamy. “Maybe this nap will snap him out of it.”

“You two sure looked cozy,” Miller mentioned as he finally walked the rest of the way into the house. Clarke followed him into the kitchen and pushed him lightly for the remark. “You ever going to tell him how you feel?”

“He knows how I feel,” Clarke lied through a smile and Miller scoffed. “We’re friends and he _knows_ it.”

“He may be blind and dumb, but I’m not,” Miller told her, all serious . “And I’ve known you forever. I know when you’re into someone. It’s not very subtle.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, hopping onto the counter. “That seems to be the consensus.” She remembered that Wells said the same thing when he met Bellamy. She hated that they were both right. “I’m surprised you’re not at my apartment right now, sneaking into Monty’s room.”

“Ha ha.” The laugh was dry, but Miller still smiled shyly. It wasn’t often that Miller got shy, but he sure was cute when he did, especially when it was in regards to his feelings for Monty.

“You two are cute,” she told him and she rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’m not going to tell Bellamy,” he said suddenly and she was shocked for a second before nodding. “But I do think you should.”

“That also seems to be the consensus,” she laughed and Miller shrugged. “I’m going to go. Can you have him text me and let me know how he feels when he wakes up?”

“Sure thing.”

Clarke smiled and walked back into the living room before she remembered where her phone was. She stood in front of Bellamy and looked over his calm, sleeping form carefully before she reached for her phone. With just the tips of her thumb and forefinger she gently slipped it out from under his leg and she looked back at his face to make sure he was still asleep. He was and she had a hard time looking away from him. But, then she heard Miller come back to the living room and she stood up quickly and left without another word.

\--

At work the next day, Clarke had only been on her shift for an hour, but she already felt rundown. She knew that she must have caught the cold that Bellamy’d had, but she was trying hard to ignore it. She couldn’t really afford to leave another shift early, no matter how shitty she felt.

“Here,” Raven said, coming up to her in the bar with a glass of water. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I’m just really tired,” she lied and Raven rubbed her shoulder.

“You went to Bellamy’s yesterday, didn’t you?” she asked and Clarke hesitated before nodding slowly. “And now you’re sick, too?”

“Yes,” she said, hanging her head in shame. Raven laughed and guided Clarke to sit on one of the bar stools and she hopped into the one next to her. The bar hadn’t opened yet, so it was just Niylah back there cleaning some glasses. The lunch shift was over and there were no tables currently in the dining room either, so Clarke didn’t feel so bad for taking a little break.

When Kane came out of the kitchen and walked behind the bar, she almost hopped to her feet, but Raven stopped her with a hand around the wrist. Clarke glanced at her and Raven rolled her eyes. There was nothing else for them to do for at least twenty more minutes and Kane knew it. Clarke sighed and rested her head atop her folded arms on the bar.

“I didn’t get sick when I went over to take care of you,” she said and Raven just nodded. “But I go to Bellamy’s and I feel like death the next day? What the hell?”

“Well,” Kane said, standing in front of them suddenly, “you’re much closer with Bellamy. Direct contact will get you sick a lot faster.”

“Direct contact?” Raven asked as Clarke sat up so quickly that her already pounding head nearly knocked her out. The amusement in Raven’s voice was so evident that Kane started to elaborate.

“Yes,” he said, looking carefully at Clarke. “You’re a smart girl, Clarke. You know that…” he trailed off, uncomfortable all of a sudden, “kissing can lead to-“

“No!” Clarke nearly screamed, catching Niylah’s attention as well. “ _No_ kissing. Bellamy and I do not kiss. No kissing at all.”

Raven was laughing so hard, she had to lean on Clarke to keep from falling off her stool. Kane’s face was as pale as a ghost and Niylah was laughing quietly behind him. Clarke, however, was _not_ laughing.

“Bellamy and I are _not_ together,” she said sharply and Kane nodded. “In _any_ way. We’re Just friends.”

“Okay,” Kane said, nodding quickly again and holding up a hand. “I’m sorry. You two just seem very close. I jumped to a conclusion. The wrong one, apparently, and  I’m _sorry_.”

Clarke nodded, settling down a little, and said, “Thank you.”

Kane left quickly, heading for the dining room, and Raven continued to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Clarke looked up just as Bellamy walked into the bar from the kitchen and Raven started laughing harder, doubling over in her seat. Bellamy just looked at Clarke for an answer and she shook her head, not sure how to have that exact conversation with Bellamy.

“Kane thought you and Clarke were dating,” Niylah explained and both Clarke and Bellamy snapped their heads to look at her. “Or at least kissing.”

Raven laughed even harder and Clarke pushed her shoulder. She looked at Bellamy who sighed and met her eyes slowly. “Really?” he asked and Clarke nodded. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do or say and the unrest made her feel even sicker than before.

“To be fair, so did I,” Niylah spoke up again. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut just to avoid seeing Bellamy’s reaction to that and she slid off her barstool.

“Well, it’s not happening,” she said hastily. Raven stopped laughing— _finally_ —and reached for Clarke’s arm. She knew that Clarke wanted to bolt and pretend the last ten minutes hadn’t happened, but she also knew that Clarke would regret it and things with Bellamy would just be weird again. If not, weirder.

“What? We can’t be friends without making out?” Bellamy asked, palms open to the ceiling in disbelief.

“Of course we can,” Clarke insisted.

“Thank you!”

He was uncomfortable, too, which just went to prove how wrong people were thinking he felt anything other than friendship toward her. She’d known all along she would have to move on and get over her crush on him, but it was more evident than ever now.

“How did it even come up?” Bellamy pondered, almost to himself, and Clarke started to answer, but Raven beat her to it.

“Clarke is sick,” she said and Bellamy looked at her, worry written across his whole face.

“I’ll be fine,” she promised, but he didn’t look relieved. “You sound a lot better today, right? I just need some time to recoup.”

“Then you should go home,” Bellamy said and Raven nodded next to her.

“Like you went home the other night after closing _and_ opening?” she asked pointedly and Bellamy rolled his eyes. He was great at telling people what to do, but was never one to do what others told him to.

“Fine,” Bellamy said. “Don’t go home. Stay here all night and feel like shit.”

“Thank you. I will.”

\--

Clarke did not leave work early, despite badgering from both Raven and Bellamy. Well, she did leave early, but only by ten minutes or so. Raven refused to let her clean up, most likely due to the fact that she was about to fall on her face from exhaustion. Also, she’d started sneezing around dinnertime and Raven was sick of listening to it.

While she grabbed her purse out of the breakroom, Niylah found her and leaned against the door. “So, you and Bellamy aren’t a thing?” she asked and Clarke narrowed her eyes but shook her head. “Do you have a thing _for_ him?”

“Why?” Clarke asked and Niylah sighed before a small smile appeared on her lips. “What?”

“You’re defensive,” Niylah said and Clarke rolled her eyes. Now Niylah could tell she had feelings for Bellamy? Niylah didn’t even _know_ her. “It’s cute.”

That surprised Clarke and Niylah’s smile grew larger. “What’s happening?” Clarke asked, making Niylah giggle. She _giggled_. It was actually kind of cute, too.

“I’m new to town. I transferred schools and I’m starting my sophomore year at State in a few days,” she said and Clarke nodded. “I don’t know anyone outside of this restaurant. And you’re _cute_. And I haven’t been with someone in a _really_ long time.”

Niylah let that sink in and Clarke let out a tiny, surprised gap. “Oh,” she said, laughing.

“So…” Niylah said, slowly walking toward Clarke. “I’m proposing that you and I could possibly, maybe… Work together.”

“Work together?”

“I need to get laid,” she said bluntly. “ _At least_ once. And you need to get over Bellamy or tell him how you feel, right? Either way, I think we could help each other out.”

“You think that if I sleep with you, I’ll get over Bellamy?” Clarke asked because she was curious and, also, because she wouldn’t hate trying it just for shits and giggles. Niylah was hot—Clarke had known that all along—and she was offering.

“I mean… it’s worth a try, right? It doesn’t need to be anything serious. Honestly, it would be a terrible idea for it to become serious. But, I think it could be beneficial to us both.”

“And it wouldn’t bother you that I do have feelings for someone else?”

“Would it bother you?”

Clarke thought about it and then smiled. “No.”

“Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” she agreed.

“Perfect,” Niylah said, backing away again. “I know you’re sick, so…”

“Another time.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Niylah left the breakroom and Clarke was alone and—honestly—a little turned on. Before the door even shut behind Niylah and Clarke had a chance to leave herself, Raven came in and found her staring at nothing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked and Clarke smiled again, shaking her head.

“I think I just found the solution to my Bellamy problem,” she told her best friend and Raven looked at her like she was crazy until she looked out the door and—no doubt—at Niylah’s retreating back.

“Really?” she asked looking back at Clarke. “She’s hot. That’s a good choice.”

“She came to me,” Clarke told her and Raven clapped once, utterly delighted. “This could be good.”

“Or it could be a disaster,” Raven considered, shrugging, before brushing it off. “But either way, you need to get laid and Niylah is the perfect person for the job.”

“And she knows how I feel about Bellamy and she doesn’t care.”

“Oh my god, it’s so perfect.” Raven was nearly swooning and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.

Sleeping with Niylah wouldn’t get her over Bellamy, but it was definitely a step in the right direction. And Raven was right, she needed to get laid. And she liked Niylah—they were already on their way to being friends. Why not add some benefits to it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sleep with whoever you want,” he told her, like that was what she wanted to hear, and she laughed in his face.
> 
> “I do not need your permission for that. I was sleeping with who I wanted and you made me feel like shit for doing it. You made me feel like shit for doing something you have done in the past.”
> 
> “To be fair, I didn’t know you knew about that,” he said and she rolled her eyes in complete disbelief.
> 
> “That’s not an excuse and you know it,” she said. “Now please get out of my way so I can go home. You have a job to do.”
> 
> “So, what? We just don’t talk about this and pretend we were never friends? Am I your mother now? We get into a fight and you cut me off completely?”
> 
> “Fuck you.”
> 
> Or: Everything explodes and Clarke is left to deal with the wreckage.

They didn’t have much time. Monty and Jasper would be home by 11 and it was already after 10. So, as soon as Clarke shut the apartment door behind her, she ripped her shirt off over her head and kissed Niylah. It took her a second to respond—no doubt surprised by the sudden attack—but when she did, Clarke sighed into it.

Niylah was a _good_ kisser and her hands felt great along the skin of Clarke’s back. The two of them wasted no more time getting each other’s clothes off. Time was of the essence, of course, and neither Clarke nor Niylah were willing to put it off any longer.

Raven had been right—Raven was almost always right, Clarke realized. Clarke needed this more than she’d ever let herself believe. Getting herself off in the shower to thoughts of Bellamy was not enough. Someone else’s hands, real lips, a real tongue— _that_ was what Clarke needed. And Niylah did not disappoint.

It didn’t last long because it didn’t _take_ long for either of them to feel the kind of release Clarke had been dreaming of for months. And when they were sprawled across the couch—Clarke on her back with her legs spread open enough for Niylah to be lying between them with her head on her chest—Clarke heard the familiar _X-Files_ theme song from her phone. Monty was calling her and she couldn’t quite move yet.

“I’ll grab it,” Niylah said, as if reading her mind—but really, just reading her body. She got off of Clarke and the couch and Clarke sat up enough to pull on her underwear and bra. Once she was done hooking it behind her back, Niylah handed her the cell phone and started getting dressed herself.

“Hey, Monty,” Clarke said as soon as she swiped her finger to answer the phone.

“Impromptu end of summer party happening at Bellamy’s in an hour,” he said in return—no greeting, no explanation. “Be there or I’ll assume you’re missing or dead and I’ll be forced to call your mother.”

“Don’t joke,” she warned and he laughed in her ear before hanging up. Clarke looked up from the couch to find Niylah smiling down at her, amused. She had on her shorts and bra and Clarke felt underdressed, all of a sudden, so she stood up and finished putting her clothes on. “Do you want to go to a party at Bellamy’s?”

“When?” she asked and Clarke laughed a little, turning around to look at her again.

“In an hour?” She crinkled her nose and smiled because she knew her friends were crazy and last minute parties weren’t exactly common for everyone else.

“How did we do?” Niylah asked and Clarke just looked at her and tilted her head. “Do you think the sex helped?”

“Oh,” Clarke laughed again, but she quickly shook her head. She and Niylah were friends and the sex was just something they were trying. There was no point in lying to her. “I never really thought it would, just kind of hoped. But, who knows, really. Maybe I’ll go to this party—sexually satisfied for once—look at him, and just see my friend.”

“Only one way to find out,” Niylah agreed with a shrug and Clarke nodded.

\--

The party was already going when Clarke and Niylah walked into Bellamy’s and they were only five minutes behind everyone else.

“Clarke!” Octavia called, running through the living room to throw her arms around Clarke’s neck. It surprised the hell out of her, but she recovered with a laugh and hugged Octavia back.

“What are you doing here?” she asked and Octavia rocked back and forth a couple of times before pulling away. She was already drunk and smiling so wide, it made Clarke smile, too.

“I start school on Monday, too, so I had Lincoln pick me up and bring me home so I could convince Bellamy to do this,” she explained. And she wasn’t being quiet. Clarke looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy watching them, looking seriously pissed off.

“Did you tell him about Lincoln before or after he agreed to the party?” Clarke asked carefully, still watching him.

“After, of course. He’s not talking to me. Or anyone, really.”

“Fuck,” Clarke muttered and Bellamy turned his back and walked down the hall toward his bedroom.

“Who is this?” Octavia asked loudly and Clarke blinked until she remembered she didn’t walk into the house alone.

“Oh, this is Niylah. She works with us,” she explained and while Niylah offered her hand to Octavia, Octavia just decided to hug her. Clarke gently pulled her off of Niylah, but Octavia didn’t notice or care and just fell into Clarke’s side, happy and drunk. Clarke envied her.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Octavia said. “Everyone is here, except for Kane, of course. I tried, but he wasn’t interested.”

“Thank god!” Miller called from behind them and both Clarke and Niylah laughed. “Clarke?”

“I’m going to talk to him,” she told Octavia. She smiled at Niylah gently and walked over to Miller who immediately pulled her into his bedroom. “What’s wrong with _you_?”

“Nothing,” he promised and Clarke nodded. “But I need a favor.”

“Okay?” she said slowly. She was actually a little nervous. Miller didn’t ask for favors. He definitely didn’t ask her.

“Talk to him,” Miller begged and Clarke shook her head. “Please.”

“I’ve wanted nothing to do with this since the beginning. I knew he was going to be pissed,” she said and Miller whined.

“Living with a pissed off Bellamy is torture. You have no idea. He’s not even mad at me, but I know that if he wakes up first tomorrow, he’ll only make enough coffee for himself. And don’t even get me started on the door slamming.”

“Pissed off Bellamy sounds a lot like a passive aggressive teenage girl,” Clarke remarked, trying not to laugh and Miller’s face fell flat.

“That’s _exactly_ what it’s like. Please talk to him. I will do anything.”

Clarke felt for him. Really, she did. But she had no idea what her talking to Bellamy could do for him. Or anyone. “Why me?”

“Because I’ve tried and failed. And so have Monty and Raven. You’re the logical next step,” Miller explained and she took a step back, honestly just a little surprised. Miller was his best friend. Monty and Raven had known him the longest from working at the restaurant with him all through high school. If they couldn’t reach him… Clarke could?

“I’ll try.” Miller smiled at that and she offered a weak smile back.

When they left Miller’s room, he pushed her so she was standing alone outside of Bellamy’s closed bedroom door. She looked over her shoulder and saw Miller fading into the mass of people in the living room and she sighed.

When Clarke knocked on Bellamy’s door, she honestly wasn’t expecting an answer. Especially not after what Miller had just told her. She was surprised when he opened the door after just one knock and stepped aside for her to go inside.

She offered him a smile, which he didn’t return, and waited awkwardly in the middle of his room until he closed the door and sat on his bed. He didn’t say a word and barely looked at her, so the only thing she could think to do was sit next to him.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence. That was new for them. Clarke didn’t like it.

“So, she told you?” she said finally, just because she needed to say _something_.

“You didn’t,” he said, still not looking at her. She inhaled sharply and looked over at him. He was studying the floor like it was one of his books, but she could see something in his eye that scared her a little. Not like he would ever do anything her, but like the conversation was not going to end well.

“It wasn’t my place, Bellamy.”

He finally looked at her, face blank and hard. She wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but that was off limits. She wanted to end this and go back to the day before when they were tossing cherries at each other across the bar and couldn’t breathe because they were laughing so hard.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” he asked and her stomach dropped. She was sure there wasn’t anything else she was keeping from him that would make him upset.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke said honestly and he laughed, but it wasn’t an amused laugh. It sent shivers—the bad kind, the kind she hadn’t related to Bellamy in a long time—to her toes.

“I saw that you and Niylah came here together,” he said and she swallowed. Why did Bellamy care about _that_? Everyone at Polaris were friends. Bellamy and Niylah were even friendly enough that Clarke got a little jealous when he smiled at her. What did it matter that she and Clarke showed up to a party together?

“So?” she asked and he sighed, falling back onto the bed. Clarke looked down at him and he covered his face with his hands and groaned. “What is wrong with you, Bellamy?”

“You’re _fucking_ my bartender,” he said, lowering his hands so he was looking up at her. All of the air left her body and she couldn’t swallow. He looked so _disappointed_. “What the fuck, Clarke?”

“Why do you care?” she asked, breathing again—hard and labored. His tone was pissing her off now.

He looked like he wasn’t sure how to answer, at first, but then his disappointment and confusion morphed into anger again. “What happens when it ends in ruins? Dating people you work with is stupid. It will mess everything up.”

“Whoa,” Clarke said, standing up. He sat up so they were staring at each other—face-off style—and she almost stopped fighting back, because she didn’t _want_ to fight with Bellamy. But he needed to know the truth if he was so hell bent on knowing everything. “Niylah and I are not dating. We’ve had sex _once_. We’re friends.”

“That’s even worse!” he yelled and Clarke laughed, stepping away from him. “What’s so funny?” he spat and she shook her head.

“You!” she yelled back. Bellamy crossed his arms and waited for her to continue. For once, she wasn’t distracted by the way his arms looked when he crossed them in a tight t-shirt. Maybe sex with Niylah would help her get over Bellamy, but not in the way anybody thought. “You’re such a hypocrite!”

“How?”

“You love that Miller and Monty are dating _and_ sleeping together,” she reminded him and he deflated just a little bit—just enough for her to notice. “Not to mention,” she said, losing her own steam. “Not to mention the fact that you had _no_ problem sleeping with Raven last fall.”

Bellamy’s face fell. So did his arms, to his side. He didn’t know she knew about that. Clarke just nodded and then looked down at the floor. She wasn’t sure why the fight was gone from both of them, but it didn’t make her feel better. It made it all feel suddenly real. And final.

“Yeah,” she said, turning away from him and toward the door. “So… Fuck you.”

\--

Clarke left the party with her head down, avoiding everyone’s pondering looks. It was enough to keep them all at arm’s length. She felt a little bad leaving Niylah in there, especially since Bellamy was her boss and now knew too much about her private life, but Clarke had to get out of there. She had to get away from Bellamy.

She went back to Monty and Jasper’s apartment. She changed into her pajamas. She turned off all the lights and got onto her makeshift bed. She forced herself to fall asleep—alone, upset, disappointed. And when she woke up for work the next day, she didn’t feel better. She didn’t feel much of anything.

When she got to work, the only thing that made her feel better was the fact that the bar wouldn’t be open for at least four hours and Bellamy wouldn’t be in until his closing shift started. They’d only be in Polaris at the same time for an hour. She could do that.

“You’re here,” Raven said when Clarke walked into the breakroom. Clarke just nodded and put her hair into a loose braid over her shoulder. “Bellamy-“

“I don’t care,” Clarke interrupted and Raven nodded, which meant Raven knew enough about what happened between her and Bellamy the night before. “I am sorry that I brought you-“

“Don’t be,” Raven insisted. Clarke smiled weakly and Raven walked across the room to hug her. “He was an asshole last night.”

“Isn’t he always?” Clarke joked lamely and Raven shook her head. She was right. Clarke knew she was right. “He didn’t even have an argument. He just knew that he was wrong and couldn’t explain himself.”

“Clarke…”

Clarke pulled out of Raven’s loose grip and shook her head. She knew what Raven thought—what she’d been saying all along. But Clarke knew she was wrong. She’d always known, but the night before made it more clear than ever. Bellamy did _not_ feel the same way about her. That was not the reason for the way he reacted to her and Niylah sleeping together.

He just always had to be right. And he was already mad about Octavia and Lincoln. He was mad at Clarke for knowing about them and not telling him about it.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said and Raven sighed, but she nodded her agreement.

“So, how was Niylah?” she asked instead with a sly smile and Clarke laughed.

“Just what I needed,” she told her. “But, unlikely to be repeated.”

“Yeah… I figured.”

“Worth it, though. You were right. I needed to get laid.”

“I always know, Clarke,” Raven reminded her and Clarke rolled her eyes, but smiled. And it was a real smile. Thank the heavens for Raven Reyes. “So, have you talked to Murphy?”

“I will today,” Clarke promised. She needed a fake ID for Raven’s 21stbirthday the next weekend. Murphy was the one person in town that made fakes good enough to get past even Bellamy’s eye.

“Good.” Raven smiled and Clarke reached out and slapped her playfully on the ass, causing them both to laugh. Clarke could do this—make it through the day without worrying about what was happening between her and Bellamy. She could move on and get over him.

\--

“Clarke.”

“No,” she said, pushing past Bellamy as he tried to block her entrance into the breakroom. She was exhausted from her shift. And he’d been trying to wave her into the lounge and over to the bar for an hour. She’d ignored him and Raven got all of her drinks for her for the one hour he was working, even though she kept telling Clarke to suck it up and get it over with.

“Come on,” he begged and she shook her head, letting the door close between them. He pushed it open, though, and kept it closed with his back while she stared him down—trying and failing to be intimidating.

“You’re an asshole,” she said finally and he smiled a little. Clarke did not smile back.

His face fell and he sighed. “I am.”

“I’ve known this all along. I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“Sleep with whoever you want,” he told her, like that was what she wanted to hear, and she laughed in his face.

“I do _not_ need your permission for that. I _was_ sleeping with who I wanted and you made me feel like shit for doing it. You made me feel like shit for doing something you have done in the past.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know you knew about that,” he said and she rolled her eyes in complete disbelief.

“That’s not an excuse and you _know_ it,” she said. “Now please get out of my way so I can go home. You have a job to do.”

“So, what? We just don’t talk about this and pretend we were never friends? Am I your mother now? We get into a fight and you cut me off completely?”

“Fuck you.”

Clarke pushed him out of the way hard enough that he actually moved and she booked it into and through the kitchen. When she’d woken up that morning, it wasn’t really anger that she felt toward Bellamy. It was more disappointment and exhaustion. But leaving Polaris after _that_ conversation definitely changed everything. She was mad. At Bellamy. For real, not after a stupid fight or a failed challenge. They were fighting and he threw _her mother_ in her face.

But she still had that same aching feeling in her gut as she had the night before. She didn’t want to be fighting with Bellamy. She always knew she’d have to talk to him eventually, she just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Or at work, of all places. He was wrong, though. He wasn’t her mother.

Clarke had expected everything that was happening with her mother. She knew the second she decided to drop out of Yale that things would never be the same. She didn’t have those same expectations with Bellamy. He was supposed to be her friend. She understood that he was upset about Octavia and Lincoln and that Clarke—and everyone else—didn’t tell him that they knew. But she never predicted that he would get mad—actually yell—at her for fucking someone that they worked with. Friends didn’t do that. Friends would support that, especially knowing all the shit Clarke had been going through since she decided to drop out of Yale. And she’d trusted Bellamy enough to talk about it all through the summer. He _knew_ she was having a rough go of it. But he didn’t care.

\--

Working with Bellamy the next few days was torture. It wasn’t even like how it was when they didn’t get along in May. It was _worse_. Clarke knew what she was missing now, but she wasn’t willing to be the first one to try and smooth things over. And since he’d tried already and it had led them to fight again, he wasn’t trying either.

In fact, he was treating her like a regular, unfamiliar co-worker. When she went to the bar for drinks and he was the only one available, he’d cut right to the chase and ask what she needed.

“House margarita for table 3,” she said. “And two gin and tonics for 4.”

“Here’s a fresh pitcher of water,” he said, handing it over before turning to make her drinks. She went back to the dining room to fill waters and came back to see her drinks waiting on a clean tray.

“Thanks.”

“I just had to 86 the Bud Light,” he said in return. “Offer them Coors instead.”

“You got it.”

With that, Bellamy turned his entire body away from her. They were done talking and no one had a say in it except for Bellamy.

The worst part of it all was that it wasn’t even helping kill Clarke’s crush. No matter how mad she was at him for using her mother against her or for reacting so ridiculously to her and Niylah, she still couldn’t get him out of her head. Along with the anger, that ever present ache for him was still there. And it was realer than ever.

It didn’t help that every time Niylah was also behind the bar and she and Bellamy were talking and laughing like nothing had happened. Bellamy didn’t care that Niylah slept with Clarke. Apparently—as far as Bellamy was concerned—Clarke was the only one to blame.

It also didn’t help that all of their friends were back in school, so they were about to start working a lot more shifts without any buffers. He’d be in the bar, maybe with Lincoln. She’d be in the dining room with Murphy. Lincoln was smart enough to stay out of any and all drama regarding Polaris, especially since he was already on Bellamy’s shitlist for dating his sister. Murphy, however, loved watching the drama. If anything, he’d probably enable the awkwardness.

When she went to the bar one last time, Bellamy was helping someone on one end while Lincoln was wiping down glasses at the other. So, Clarke knew where she needed to go.

“Hey,” she said to Lincoln. He looked up and smiled, relieved. It’d been a pretty slow day, especially for the bar. “Could I get a pitcher of white sangria, please?”

“Of course,” he said, walking to the back of the bar. She knew it would be a minute, so she slid onto one of the many, many empty stools and waited.

Clarke tried not to look down the other end of the bar, but she couldn’t help it. Bellamy was looking back at her. His customer was finishing off her drink and talking to her friend, so he wasn’t of any use to her. And, what startled Clarke the most, his face wasn’t passive like it had been all week. It was the most open she’d seen it since they were tossing those cherries at each other.

He looked hopeful and that made her _feel_ a little hopeful. But when someone new sat between them, it was like he remembered that they weren’t talking and his face fell, but his eyes still held a tiny, sliver of hope.

“Here you go,” Lincoln said, catching her attention finally. She looked at him and smiled a quick, tight smile. He glanced down at Bellamy, too, and shook his head. “He and Octavia are talking again.”

“That’s good,” she said, sliding off her stool.

“But she says he’s been a little off lately,” Lincoln continued. She looked at him, trying to figure out what exactly he was getting at, but Lincoln was unreadable. “She can’t figure out what it is.”

“Yeah, well,” Clarke said, sighing. She looked down at Bellamy again. He was smiling that charming smile meant only for customers. The fake one. The one he didn’t even bother to use on her. She didn’t get any smile. “I have no idea.”

“Yeah,” Lincoln said. Clarke smiled at him again and left the bar.

She was counting down the minutes to the end of her shift. But, then she’d be all alone. The boys would be working. Raven had a lab. Miller and Niylah had to work.

Maybe she couldn’t do this. Maybe she should have gone back to Yale, never drop out at all. Sometimes she felt more alone at home than she did when she’d been in Connecticut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven was already inside with Monty and Miller. Clarke was in line with Jasper and Niylah. And she knew that if she turned her head, she’d see Bellamy standing at the back of the line with Harper, Monroe, and Murphy.
> 
> She didn’t want to turn her head and see Bellamy, though. They’d spent the first week and a half of their friends’ new semester co-existing—talking about nothing but cocktails and restaurant seating. In fact, they’d spent that whole day avoiding each other completely. Clarke figured it was because they both knew they would have to play nice for Raven’s birthday and they didn’t want to overexert themselves. At least, that was what she was telling herself. Deep down, she knew that talking to Bellamy about unimportant, work bullshit was harder than not talking to him at all.
> 
> At least when she wasn’t talking to him at all, she could pretend that she didn’t know him. Or care about him. Which were both glaringly obvious lies.
> 
> Or: Birthdays are good for bringing people together. So are scumbags.

Clubs were not Clarke’s thing. She’d never actually been to a club, but from where she stood in line, she knew it to be true. The fake ID that Murphy had made for her was burning a hole in her purse, making her sweat, even though she knew it would work. He’d made all of her friend’s IDs and none of them had been turned away from a bar.

And now Raven didn’t even need her fake ID anymore because it was her 21st birthday. The night before, Clarke had actually watched her cut it into a bunch of pieces and throw it into the trash with so much fanfare that they both ended up in a fit of laughter.

Raven was already inside with Monty and Miller. Clarke was in line with Jasper and Niylah. And she knew that if she turned her head, she’d see Bellamy standing at the back of the line with Harper, Monroe, and Murphy.

She didn’t want to turn her head and see Bellamy, though. They’d spent the first week and a half of their friends’ new semester co-existing—talking about nothing but cocktails and restaurant seating. In fact, they’d spent that whole day avoiding each other completely. Clarke figured it was because they both knew they would have to play nice for Raven’s birthday and they didn’t want to overexert themselves. At least, that was what she was telling herself. Deep down, she knew that talking to Bellamy about unimportant, work bullshit was harder than not talking to him at all.

At least when she wasn’t talking to him at all, she could pretend that she didn’t know him. Or care about him. Which were both glaringly obvious lies.

“It’s not so bad inside,” Jasper said, noticing the look on Clarke’s face, which was set in a deep frown. It was a mixture of fear and uncertainty about what awaited her in the club, as well as her situation with Bellamy. “We came here for her birthday last year and we all made it out alive and in one piece.”

“That’s really comforting, Jas,” Clarke laughed. Getting out alive and in one piece didn’t exactly scream _fun_. “Thank you.”

“I’m just trying to help!”

Clarke laughed again as the line finally started to move forward. She kind of couldn’t believe how busy it was for a Wednesday night. Niylah sighed from her other side, looking more and more uncomfortable as they got closer to the door.

“Are you okay?” Clarke asked her and she nodded.

“Remember that girl in my sociology class that I told you about?” she asked and Clarke nodded. Jasper nodded along with her and it made her smile, because Niylah was really starting to fit in with _everyone_. “Well, she’s going to be here with her friends tonight, too.”

“Go for it!” Jasper said, reaching across Clarke to jostle Niylah’s elbow encouragingly. “She’s hot. Way hotter than Clarke.”

“That’s rude!” Clarke said, shoving him off of the sidewalk and into the street. They both started laughing while Niylah looked on, shaking her head with a smile. “But you should go for it,” she said to Niylah as Jasper climbed back onto the sidewalk. The line stopped again and Clarke leaned against the brick of the building. She could feel the music from inside pounding against the wall and she rested her head back and closed her eyes for just a second.

When her head fell to the side, she saw Bellamy leaning against the wall, as well. He was laughing at something Harper and Murphy were fighting about, running a hand through his hair. All of a sudden, it was like she had tunnel vision and she couldn’t see any of the people standing in line between them. A carefree Bellamy was a rare Bellamy and Clarke could feel herself smiling at the sight.

“What are you looking at?” Jasper asked. Clarke started to answer him just as Niylah leaned closer to her to see for herself.

At that moment—of _all_ moments—Bellamy looked their way. Niylah waved at him and he nodded in return before focusing on Clarke. She smiled at him because he still had that laugh shining in his eyes and she honestly couldn’t help it. Niylah rolled her eyes and moved away just as Bellamy smiled back before turning away hastily and pushing himself off the wall.

“He’ll be so happy to see me go for it with someone who isn’t you,” Niylah remarked and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Jasper said, moving forward to see what Clarke had been looking at, but he didn’t see anyone or anything. “Who?”

“Bellamy.”

“Niylah!” Clarke watched for Jasper’s reaction, expecting something big and supremely _Jasper_ , but all he did was nod and stand on his toes to see if he could see Bellamy himself.

“Clarke…” Niylah said, laughing. “It’s not a secret.”

“It’s really not,” Jasper said, falling back onto his heels. “You’re both really terrible at hiding it, actually.”

“What?” Clarke demanded loudly. It was one thing hearing it from Raven and Monty. Niylah had even taken to teasing her about it, too. But she’d never even talked to Jasper about her feelings for Bellamy.

“Come on, Clarke,” he said, shaking his head. The line started moving ahead of them and Jasper took her by the shoulders and pushed her forward.

She waited, holding her breath, as the doorman looked over her ID with a tiny flashlight. He turned it over and everything before handing it back to Clarke and waving her inside.

“Thanks,” she said, keeping her head held high as she walked into the club.

\--

Inside, the music was loud and the club was dark and there were so many people. Clarke was sweating from the moment she stepped over the threshold. But she didn’t care, because not three seconds later, Raven’s legs were wrapped around her waist and she was hugging her hard. Thankfully Jasper was behind her because she was sure she would have landed on the floor with Raven on top of her if he didn’t catch them both.

“You’re here!” Raven shouted, sliding back onto her feet. Her smile was huge and infectious.

“Happy birthday!” Clarke yelled over the music and Raven danced past her to hug Jasper and then Niylah. When she was finished with them, Bellamy was walking inside with everyone else, sliding his wallet into his pocket. He wasn’t even able to pull his hand back out before Raven was jumping up to throw her arms around his neck.

Clarke watched with an amused smile before Monty slid up next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Raven talked our way into a VIP booth,” he said in her ear.

“Seriously?” Clarke asked, amazed, and Monty nodded. Clarke grabbed Jasper’s hand and Monty led them to the back wall where Miller was sitting with a tray full of shots. Clarke loved her friends. She loved them even more when they were surrounded by tequila shots and a cup of limes.

“Is everyone here?” Miller asked while Clarke slid into the booth next to him. Monty slid into his other side with Jasper following behind.

“Raven’s bringing everyone else now,” Monty explained, nodding toward the rest of their friends being led over by Raven.

She was holding Bellamy’s hand and dragging him behind her, but Clarke wasn’t surprised when she let go and pushed him into the booth so he would be forced to sit next to Clarke. Not surprised at all. She ushered everyone else to sit in the large crescent shaped booth before she picked up a shot and every one followed along. She stood in front of them, smiling at each and every one of them individually before he focused on them as a whole.

“I already told my professors that I wouldn’t be in class tomorrow, and I plan on taking full advantage of that,” she yelled over the music, holding up her shot. “So, before I get too drunk to remember your names, I just wanted to thank you for coming out tonight. It means a lot to me and I love you!”

“Here, here!” Clarke yelled, holding up her own shot. Everyone else followed along and they all tried to clink everyone’s glasses before taking back their shots and reaching for a lime. Jasper whooped loudly at his end of the booth and slid out to grab Raven around the waist and bring her to the dancefloor. A few others followed them, leaving Monty, Miller, Clarke, and Bellamy alone at the table.

Clarke needed a drink. And she knew one of the waitresses would be over to take their orders in a second, but she also needed to get out of the booth and away from Bellamy. Monty and Miller were in their own little world, though, and she couldn’t ask them to move or, if she did, they probably wouldn’t hear her. Her alternative was to ask the very person she was trying to avoid to move and, furthermore, help her avoid him. She wasn’t even sure why he was still sitting there. She knew that he didn’t like to dance, but she was also intimately familiar with the fact that he didn’t want to interact with her unless he absolutely had to.

So, instead. She focused on anything but him. Which was easy. There were so many other things to look at, especially since it was her first time in a club and her friends were out on the dancefloor having a great time. Clarke didn’t like to dance much either, especially not when she’d only had one shot. She needed a lot more liquid courage than that to let loose on the dancefloor.

“Do you want to dance?” Bellamy asked, leaning toward her and her eyes snapped to him. He was close, but he wasn’t looking at her, so he couldn’t see the look of sheer surprise on her face. When she didn’t answer, though—too busy staring at him like he was both the most frustrating and the most ridiculous human on the planet—his eyes finally met hers.

It was the first time they’d been so close in a long time and even though they weren’t touching, Clarke remembered the way his hand felt in hers and the way his hair felt in her fingers. She swore she could feel him pressed up against her even though there were a good five inches between them. It was close, but it wasn’t close enough. Maybe it was too close.

“Not with me!” he insisted, pushing away from her and her chest caved in as she began breathing again—finally. “Shit. No. I just meant- I’ll get up,” he said and then he was pushing himself out of the booth.

Clarke couldn’t get out of there fast enough. She jumped to her feet and slid past him without another glance in his direction. She headed straight to the bar, avoiding her friends’ grabby hands on the dancefloor. In that moment, she needed a drink more than ever.

\--

After sweating it out on the dancefloor for a couple of songs, Clarke needed water. The drinks from before were still coursing through her and she was actually _excited_ to get back out there with Raven, Monroe, and Harper. Everyone else was scattered around the club—Niylah was dancing with the girl she liked from school, Jasper and Murphy were going shot for shot at the bar, Miller and Monty were dancing in their own little world, and Bellamy was…

She didn’t actually know where Bellamy was. She’d avoided looking at him or even for him since he let her out of their booth an hour and a half earlier. He was probably off somewhere, using that fake smile he uses on customers but instead using it on some beautiful girl he’d go home with at the end of the night. Some girl that wasn’t Clarke. Some girl that would never be Clarke.

“No!” Clarke said to herself, pushing her way through the thick mass of people cluttered around the bar. She made her way up to it—thankful for being short for once in her life—and leaned over to get one of the bartenders’ attention. There were five of them back there at once, but they were all busy with other customers and though she’d been thankful for being short and getting through a crowd earlier, her pint size would not help her in this situation.

She settled back on her heels, but leaned her elbows on the bar. The music was pounding through the floor and she could feel it throughout her entire body. She started swaying back and forth in time to the beat, unable to stop herself, and waited to be seen by one of those bartenders. When she felt a hand on her lower back, she leaned into it at first, assuming it was one of her friends, but when she turned her head she saw someone else entirely.

“Do you need some help?” he asked, nodding at the nearest bartender.

Clarke stepped away from his touch and made a face at him. “I can handle it,” she promised and turned away, leaning closer to the bar. When his hand landed on her shoulder—bare, because she was in just a tank top—she cringed and tried to roll it off of her. “Dude.”

“Hmm?” he asked, leaning closer. He was smirking, like he thought she _wanted_ him touching her or coming closer to her. She rolled her shoulder again, but he only moved closer. His ear was right near her mouth and his hand was tight on her shoulder and there were _so many_ people around her that she didn’t have much room to move away from him.

“Hey, Babe.”

Clarke leaned into the familiar chest next to her and the stranger’s hand fell from her shoulder while Bellamy’s arm wrapped around her waist.

“Bellamy?” the stranger asked and when Clarke looked up at Bellamy she could see the anger and disgust written all over his face.

“Cage.” He said it with so much venom that Clarke shivered and leaned into him even more. He squeezed her tight for just a second and glanced down at her. Gone was the steely face she was used to since he found out about her and Niylah. Instead, he just looked happy that he was standing with her and happy that he’d gotten there in time. For what? She wasn’t sure. But she knew enough that Bellamy didn’t like this Cage guy.

And then Clarke remembered that name. He was the asshole who lived next door to Bellamy over the summer. It was his father’s house—who Bellamy didn’t mind, but he _hated_ Cage. And Cage hated him.

“I thought you looked familiar,” Cage said, focused on Clarke now and her jaw tensed. “I’ve seen you next door.”

“Well, yeah. _He_ lives there,” she said, flicking her eyes at Bellamy.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said and Bellamy’s entire body tensed against Clarke’s side. He let go of her waist—but grabbed her hand instead as he stepped between her and Cage. Bellamy wasn’t all that tall, but he was extremely intimidating when he wanted to be. It was enough to get Cage to back off, but he didn’t leave completely—no matter how hard Bellamy stared him down. Clarke squeezed his hand and tugged him back. It took a second, but Bellamy nodded and dragged her further down the bar.

By the time they stopped moving, they were down near where Murphy and Jasper were hanging out, trying to pick up girls now. There were enough people at the bar that Clarke couldn’t see Cage, but she swore she could still feel his hand on her shoulder and his breath on her face.

Bellamy let go of her hand and ran his through his hair, looking at the surface of the bar. Clarke reached for his elbow and he looked at her the second her skin touched his.

“So, that’s your neighbor?” she asked, standing on her toes to lean closer to him so he could hear her over the people and the music. He nodded and looked over her shoulder to glare at something—Cage, probably. “He’s kind of a pig. And an asshole.”

“That’s _kind of_ an understatement,” he told her and she smiled. He smiled, too, but it was tight and hard. It made her remember what they were to each other. Which, at that point, was nothing but co-workers who happened to have a few mutual friends. “Are you okay?” he asked, regardless of it all.

“I am,” she promised and his smile transformed into something she was more familiar with—something a little more real. “I mean, I could have taken him if I had to, but I’m glad I didn’t. Thank you.”

“He owns this place,” Bellamy explained. “If you did try to take him, he’d kick us out of here.”

“I’m sure he would have done the same if you tried something, which you were _definitely_ about to do.”

“No, he would have kicked _me_ out,” Bellamy said. “Anything to make me look bad and embarrass me in front of people he knows I care about.”

Clarke’s breath caught deep in her throat and she raised a hand to her neck. Bellamy’s eyes followed her movements and he could see the shock she was feeling throughout her whole body. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was actually _amused_. He cared about her and the admission—after the couple of weeks they’d been though—knocked her out. And he was _laughing_ at her.

“You’re not _dumb,_ Clarke.”

She forgot all about the water she needed. She forgot about her friends waiting for her on the dancefloor. She ignored the ones at the end of the bar that had forgotten about the girls they were hitting on, opting to watch her and Bellamy instead.

Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s wrist and dragged him through the crowd at the bar, the people standing at the high top tables, the people dancing wildly on the dancefloor. She dragged him outside and past the line at the door and around the corner where they could still feel the music from inside, but they could no longer hear it.

Bellamy leaned against the building and crossed his arms. He looked wholly unimpressed with being dragged outside, but he didn’t make any move to go back inside, either. He just looked at Clarke—waiting.

“I hate this,” she said. He didn’t budge. “I hate _you_.”

That made him smile. At least until he bit on his lower lip to stop it from spreading. Clarke had seen it, though.

“You do?” he asked, trying to sound casual—and failing. “Is that why you just dragged me through an entire club full of our friends and brought me out here to get me alone? Because you hate me?”

“Yes,” she lied, unable to keep her own smile from appearing. He chuckled once and looked down at the ground so she couldn’t get a good look at his face.

When Bellamy looked at her again, his face was soft and open. It was almost like it was her friend looking back at her. “I hate it, too,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Octavia and-“

“I’m not mad at you—well, I’m not pleased that you didn’t tell me about Lincoln and my sister, but I’m not _mad_ at you, either,” he interrupted.

“So, this whole thing was really about me and Niylah? _Niylah_ who’s inside making out with another girl? _Niylah_ that will still be my friend in the morning even though we’ve had sex?” she demanded and Bellamy shook his head.

“I’m not mad at you at all,” he admitted. “That night was… I just had a lot of information coming at me. My sister, you and Niylah. I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

Clarke took a step back and counted her breaths. She waited until she got to five before speaking again. “Then what has been happening with us? Why are we treating each other like strangers?”

“Because even when I tried to apologize the next day, I was still an ass.”

“You were,” Clarke laughed. “ _My mother,_ Bellamy? You think you’re my mother? You think I want you to cut me out of your life completely? That I want to do the same to you?”

“No,” he said. “I got scared.”

“What? What are you _talking_ about?”

“You and I have become better friends than I ever expected,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “I want you in my life and I was afraid that if we didn’t talk about our fight _immediately_ that we’d never move past it.”

“So, you started another fight that we couldn’t get past?”

“I didn’t say it was a _good_ idea,” he laughed and Clarke shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, too, for what it’s worth,” she said and he nodded for her continue. Because he knew her well enough that she wasn’t even close to finished talking. “I’m sorry you found out about your sister and Lincoln the way that you did and that I could have done something to stop it. I’m sorry that I slept with your bartender without talking to you about it as my friend and her boss. I should have had more respect for you _and_ our friendship. I’m sorry I brushed you off and let you think I didn’t want to move past it.

“But I’m _not_ sorry for sleeping with Niylah. I’m not sorry for getting mad at your hypocrisy concerning me and Niylah. I’m not sorry for getting mad at you for throwing something so personal—like what’s going on with my mother—in my face. I _am_ sorry for not trying to talk to you or get through to you the past two weeks. I want you in my life, too, Bellamy.”

She did. More than he could ever know.

“Good.” He swallowed and licked his lip. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “And you shouldn’t be sorry for any of those things. I was an asshole.”

“I was, too.”

They watched each other for a second and Clarke still felt like there was an ocean between them. But then he smiled—that real, breathtaking Bellamy smile—and her knees went a little weak.

He uncrossed his arms and held out a hand for her to shake. She took it cautiously, but he squeezed her hand when it landed in his. “Friends?” he asked.

That _was_ the question, wasn’t it? Could Clarke be friends with Bellamy? She wanted him in her life. She wanted him by her side. She wanted to laugh with him. But… friends?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, shit,” Bellamy muttered and she looked over to see him staring at a picture on his phone.
> 
> “What’s wrong?” Clarke asked. She rolled closer to him—but not close enough to touch him again—and he handed her his phone silently.
> 
> She gasped at the picture in front of her. She and Bellamy in bed together, asleep. Her face was pressed against his neck. His hand was under her shirt at the waist. Their legs were tangled together. They looked like a lot more than friends.
> 
> Clarke read the caption: _The B essst birhdtday present. _“I’m going to kill her,” she said, tossing the phone back to Bellamy. “Care to join me?”__
> 
> __“No,” he said, locking his phone again and putting it face down on his nightstand—like he physically couldn’t look at the picture any longer. “I think you’ve got this one.”_ _
> 
> __She crawled off his bed and stormed through his room and across the hall. Raven was asleep on her stomach, completely spread over the entire bed. She looked really comfortable. Clarke pulled the pillow out from under her head and hit her in the ass with it._ _
> 
> __  
>  Or: They're friends, right?_ _

Friends. Clarke had shaken Bellamy’s hand and agreed to be his friend. In that moment, she’d felt like it was her only option. At that moment, it was either be his friend or be nothing at all. And she’d felt like his nothing at all for two weeks. She couldn’t stomach it any longer.

But if she and Bellamy were _friends_ , then why did she wake up in his arms? With her head pillowed against his chest? While his thumb moved rhythmically up and down her shoulder?

“Why am I here?” she croaked as her hand landed on the other side of his chest—his _bare_ chest. Shit.

She pushed herself so she could glance at him and he was laughing silently, still sleep addled himself. “Um,” he said, shaking his head. But he didn’t let go of her. And Clarke didn’t dare make a move away from him, either. “I put you and Raven to bed in O’s room and you crawled in here about two hours later. I woke up to you… cuddling up to me.” He was blushing a little and looking at her hand on his chest rather than her eyes. “When I was awake enough to ask if you were okay, you were already passed out.”

Clarke groaned and hid her face against Bellamy’s chest. She could feel his laugh and she groaned again.

“Wells called her,” she remembered, resting her cheek on him instead. “And she started getting gross, so I had to get out of there.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said and she nodded, staring at his bedroom door. “I could hear her talking to someone.”

“Where is everyone else?” Clarke asked, glancing up at him again. He was staring at the ceiling and his hand lifted from her shoulder. She was about to roll off of him, but then he ran his hand down the back of her head and she tried to keep from sighing dreamily. She wasn’t exactly successful, but she hid it with a yawn.

“Jasper and Murphy are in the living room. Miller and Monty are in Miller’s room. Harper and Monroe went home. And Niylah went home with that girl,” he said and he looked at her again. He looked concerned and Clarke _really_ hoped he knew that she didn’t care who Niylah went home with.

She smiled to ease his worry. “That’s awesome,” she said and he smiled slightly. “What time is it?”

Bellamy reached for his phone with the arm that wasn’t around Clarke and handed it to her while he put on his glasses, blinking a few times. She had a hard time looking away from his face, but finally glanced down at the phone screen and noticed she still had three hours before she needed to be at work. She saw the notifications, too, and saw that one was an Instagram notification from a picture Raven tagged him in. She didn’t remember much from the night before after she and Bellamy made up, so she couldn’t wait to see what was waiting for her online.

“Here,” she said, handing him his phone back. His arm finally fell from around her as he unlocked the screen and she rolled onto her back and stretched her arms over her head.

“Oh, shit,” Bellamy muttered and she looked over to see him staring at a picture on his phone.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked. She rolled closer to him—but not close enough to touch him again—and he handed her his phone silently.

She gasped at the picture in front of her. She and Bellamy in bed together, asleep. Her face was pressed against his neck. His hand was under her shirt at the waist. Their legs were tangled together. They looked like a lot more than friends.

Clarke read the caption: _The B essst birhdtday present._ “I’m going to kill her,” she said, tossing the phone back to Bellamy. “Care to join me?”

“No,” he said, locking his phone again and putting it face down on his nightstand—like he physically couldn’t look at the picture any longer. “I think you’ve got this one.”

She crawled off his bed and stormed through his room and across the hall. Raven was asleep on her stomach, completely spread over the entire bed. She looked _really_ comfortable. Clarke pulled the pillow out from under her head and hit her in the ass with it.

“What the _fuck_?” Raven yelled, rolling over and kicking her feet up to stop the next blow.

Clarke pulled her phone off of the nightstand where she must have left it the night before and opened it up to the picture. “Yeah, what the _fuck_ , Raven?” she said, putting it in her face so she could see.

Raven dropped her legs and took the phone from it, squinting at the screen. “Shit,” she laughed and Clarke hit her again. “Jeez. Okay! I’m sorry!”

“What were you thinking?” Clarke asked and Raven rolled her eyes and moved over to one side of the bed so Clarke could lay next to her.

“I was drunk and you were missing and I found you like that,” Raven said, dropping the phone between them. “It was cute. My drunk mind took over. I’ll delete it.”

“Bellamy already saw it,” Clarke said quietly and Raven cringed next to her. She actually did look sorry.

“What did he say?”

“ _Oh_ , _shit_.”

“Shit,” Raven echoed. “Well, looks like you two have some more things to talk about.”

“No! We just got over that stupid fight. You think I’m going to tell him how I really feel? _Now_?”

“I’m so tired, Clarke,” Raven whined. Clarke wasn’t sure if she meant she was actually tired or just tired of the drama of Clarke and Bellamy. Probably both at that point. “I can’t do this anymore,” she yelled, rolling underneath a pillow.

Clarke couldn’t do it either. At least, she didn’t want to.

\--

After Raven fell back asleep, Clarke didn’t dare go back to Bellamy’s room. She set an alarm and tried to get back to sleep for a little while, but couldn’t see anything but that picture when she closed her eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink when her alarm went off. She needed to get her car and go home to get changed. She needed to go to work.

She left Raven in bed and found Miller and Monty in the hallway. “Can you give me a ride back to my car?” she asked and Monty shook his head.

“Sorry! I’m going to be late for class,” he said. “Miller?”

“I can,” Miller said. “I just need some coffee first.”

“Yeah, no rush,” Clarke promised. The three of them walked into the kitchen, passing Murphy still passed out on the couch. Jasper was gone already and Clarke remembered that he had early classes on Thursday. Bellamy was at the kitchen table reading something on his phone. He looked up when he had company and nodded at no one in particular.

Clarke sat down in the chair next to him and folded her arms on top of the table before resting her head down to rest on them. “Where’s Raven? Did you suffocate her?” Bellamy asked and Clarke turned her head to smile at him.

“Yup,” she lied. “Then I laid in bed with her lifeless body.”

“Gross,” he cringed and they both laughed.

“She’s sleeping. She’s probably not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Murphy is either,” Bellamy agreed. “Do you need a ride to work?”

“Miller’s going to bring me to pick up my car,” Clarke said and Bellamy immediately shook his head.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“I’ve got it, man,” Miller said from where he was pouring his coffee. “I have to go to school anyway.”

“So, go to school,” Bellamy said, looking directly at Miller and no one else. Miller looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped himself and shrugged. “I’ll bring her.”

“Is that cool, Clarke?” Miller asked, though he looked like she didn’t have a choice at this point. And it didn’t matter to Clarke, as long as she got to her car and got to work on time.

“Of course,” she shrugged, looking between them. She couldn’t read either of them, though. And when she looked at Monty he was laughing into his coffee cup. That wasn’t entirely promising, but she needed to get to her car, so she wasn’t going to question it.

“Your shoes are at the door,” Bellamy told her and she nodded. They stood up and walked as quietly as possible through the living room and put their shoes on.

Bellamy opened the door for her and she smiled at him as she left and waited for him on the step until he closed the door behind them. As soon as he was next to her, he put a strong hand on her lower back and guided her to his car. When she looked up, she saw Cage getting into his own car in the next driveway and she tensed.

“You’re okay,” Bellamy whispered in her ear. He leaned around her to open her door for her and kept his other hand on her, but his eyes were steady and threatening on Cage. He closed her door once she was in the car and moved swiftly to the other side of the car to get in next to her.

They drove in silence for a while, but Clarke couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. He looked… weird. A little jumpy. Nervous. He kept glancing over at her, too, but quickly turned away each time their eyes met.

“Is everything okay?” Clarke asked him and he nodded quickly and unconvincingly. She rolled her eyes, but let it go. Her head was foggy from the night before and she wasn’t sure how much she could handle.

Clarke rested her head on the window and closed her eyes for the rest of the drive. It wasn’t much longer to the club, so she wasn’t surprised when the car stopped, but she was surprised when she opened her eyes to see Bellamy _staring_ at her.

“What?” she asked, leaning back and he sighed, falling back against his own window.

She woke up _in his arms_ that morning. He held her there long after he’d known she was awake. And now he was acting like she threw a drink in his face and was terrified of what she might do next.

But then, something in his face shifted. He looked more confident—more like Bellamy. He looked like a man with a plan. She wasn’t sure which made her more nervous.

“I’m really glad we’re not fighting anymore,” he said finally.

“So am I,” she promised. And she was. She _really_ was. Even if they were just friends. At least he was talking to her. At least he was in her life.

“And after you left my room this morning, I just stared at that picture and it got me thinking,” he started and she nodded for him to continue. He still seemed determined to get out whatever he needed to get out, but he looked nervous again. “I care that you slept with Niylah. I _care_ about who you sleep with.”

“Bellamy,” she sighed. She didn’t want to fight with him, but she would if he kept it up. But he didn’t let her berate him. He put up a hand and shook his head.

“Because I’m selfish,” he said quickly. Clarke’s breathing was starting to come in deep waves. Her fists were clenched in her lap. She had to stop herself from reaching out for him—more so than usual. “And you can sleep with or date or be with whoever you want. But, _selfishly_ , I want to be that person.”

Clarke’s breathing stopped all together. Her hands went limp in her lap. She couldn’t move at all. Bellamy—this beautiful man and amazing friend who had worlds on his shoulders and stars etched across his cheeks—wanted to sleep with her. To date her. To be with _her_. It was everything she’d wanted since they shook hands at that first party in May. It was more than she ever imagined she’d ever hear coming from him.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, shaking her head and he looked like she broke him. “Shit. No!” she said quickly. “No, that’s- I want that, too. With _you_.”

A grin split across his face and he was leaning toward her, but she flattened herself against her door and he stopped—nervous again. “Sorry,” he said, starting to move away. She grabbed his t-shirt and held him in his place.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she said and he laughed. His hand cupped her jaw and his thumb brushed over her bottom lip.

“I literally could not care less,” he said, his voice low and rough. It sent shivers through Clarke’s entire body. She swore that she could feel it in her heart.

“Okay,” she said and she couldn’t stop smiling. Not as he smiled back. Not when he leaned toward her again. Only when his lips landed on hers and his hand tangled in her hair.

Fireworks and shooting stars were all she could see. His lips and his hands were all she could feel. There was nothing else in _the world_ that mattered in that moment. She didn’t even care that they were in a cramped car, making out over a gear shift. She didn’t care that she was probably going to be late for work. She didn’t care that she was hungover. All she cared about was Bellamy.

\--

Clarke’s day felt like it was never ending. It didn’t help that her phone kept vibrating in her apron pocket—texts from Raven and Miller and Monty screaming at her about what had happened with Bellamy that morning. When she finally got into her car that morning, she immediately called Raven, not caring at all that she’d be waking her up for the second time that morning.

Raven got appropriately excited—excited enough that Clarke heard Miller run into the bedroom to make sure she wasn’t being kidnapped or murdered. From there on, Clarke could only imagine how the news was spreading.

It wasn’t just that, though. She was being tagged in comments on Raven’s picture and Bellamy kept texting her, too. He started out by saying he was really glad she crawled into his bed the night before. Then he told her to make sure she brushed her teeth before she talked to ay customers. And once she’d gotten to work, he asked her when she would be out.

And she really hated that she was working a double while he had the whole day off.

The lunch shift was slow and boring, like most weekday lunch shifts. And Lincoln was fun and always made her work days better, but he wasn’t Bellamy.

By the time the dinner shift came, she was excited to see Miller smirking at her from behind the bar. “It’s over,” he said when he saw her, throwing his arms out and his head back. She laughed at him and threw a wadded up napkin at him.

“So,” she said, leaning on her elbows. He got serious and mirrored her stance.

“So?”

“You’ve known he had feelings for me this whole time?” she asked, but she knew the answer.

“He’s my best friend, Clarke,” he said simply and she nodded. “I couldn’t tell you how he felt. And I didn’t tell him how you felt. You two had to do it.”

Clarke thought about that, knew it to be true, and nodded. “I’m glad it’s over, too,” she said and Miller laughed.

“Yeah, I bet,” he said, standing straight again when a customer sat at the other end of the bar. “Are you in here or the dining room tonight?”

“You’re stuck with me tonight,” she told him and he smiled before heading over to his customer.

Clarke stood by the bar, waiting for a table to arrive. It was still early, though, so she figured it would be a while before she would be needed. When her phone vibrated in her apron again, she rolled her eyes before checking it.

**_Jasper:_ ** _FINALLY! Give Bellamy a kiss for me!_

Clarke laughed and put her phone away without answering him. She smiled to herself, though, and remembered something Jasper had said the night before. He’d said that _both_ she and Bellamy were terrible at hiding it. Were they really the only two that hadn’t seen it all summer?

“You’ve got a table,” Miller said, nodding past her when he grabbed a bottle of wine from under the bar.

“Thanks,” Clarke said, turning toward the room. Bellamy was sitting at a table in the corner and she rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop in for a drink,” he said, shrugging casually. But he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Clarke had to bite her own lip to keep hers under control. He was just sitting there in a plaid shirt that was rolled to the elbows, his hair in its usual disarray, beaming at her. She was surprised she was still standing.

“Sure,” she said, trying to sound as casual as he was. “So, why not sit at the bar?”

She put her palms on his table and leaned towards him as she waited for an answer and she definitely did not miss the way his eyes fell to her chest. She cleared her throat and his eyes moved up to hers again—slowly.

“Terrible service at the bar,” he said, smirking up at her and she laughed.

“That’s a shame,” Clarke clucked and Bellamy nodded. His pinky finger ran over the tip of hers and she shivered at the innocent touch. “I’ll have to let the bar manager know.”

“In my experience,” Bellamy said quietly, conspiratorially, “Bar managers prefer to hear their bad news after they make out a hot blonde.”

Clarke let out a loud laugh and stood up straight to cover her mouth with her hands. Bellamy laughed, too, and she wanted nothing more than to rip off her apron and drag him back to his house.

“Thanks for the tip,” she said through her laugh and he shrugged again. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll just have a water for now,” he told her and she shook her head and leaned closer to him until their faces were mere inches from each other.

“You are ridiculous,” she said quietly and he moved even closer to her.

“I’m kind of hoping you’re into it, though.”

She smiled and glanced around them before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Lucky for you, I am.”

\--

Bellamy didn’t leave. Clarke served him his water and a plate of fries, but he moved to the bar to sit with Raven when she came in for a drink. And because business wasn’t picking up—no matter how late it got—Clarke hung out with them, checking on her two tables every so often.

“So, what happens now?” Raven asked, hand on her fist as she looked at Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke had her hip against his knee so she could be close enough to talk to her friends but also keep an eye on her tables. Her hand was on his thigh and he kept finding excuses to touch her—he’d brush hair out of her face or squeeze her hand to get her attention.

“What do you mean?” Bellamy asked, his hand falling to rest on top of Clarke’s.

“You made out, you’re literally attached at the hip,” Raven said, waving a hand at them. She was trying to sound disgusted, but Clarke could see she was utterly pleased. “So, what’s next?”

“None of your business,” Bellamy laughed, glancing over at Clarke who nodded her agreement.

“That’s his way of telling you that he has no idea,” Miller remarked when he joined them. “Are you guys going to tell Kane?”

“We probably should,” Clarke considered. He thought something had been going on between them all summer and they both made it a point to correct him. He had a right to know that two of his employees were seeing each other. She didn’t want him to walk in on them making out in the break room or anything.

“One more question,” Raven said, actually raising her hand and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Let me check on my tables first,” she said and Raven groaned but waved her away. Bellamy just squeezed her hand before letting go and she smiled at him as she passed.

She checked on both of her tables, leaving their checks behind and when she got back to her friends, both had left cash and were waving at her as they left.

“Thanks! Have a great night!” she called and then resumed her position against Bellamy’s legs and looked at Raven. “Okay, hit me.”

“Well, it’s actually for Bellamy,” she said and everyone turned their attention to Bellamy—even Murphy who had just closed out his only table.

“What?” Bellamy asked, sounding bored. It made Clarke smile. She couldn’t _stop_ smiling.

“What made you do something about this this morning?” Raven asked, looking between the two of them and Bellamy sighed, looking at Clarke.

“That’s a valid question,” she said, leaning closer to him.

He considered her—his eyes falling to her lips for a second—before answering. “I heard you guys talking. You said something about not telling me how you felt. So, I figured I would tell you how _I_ felt.”

Clarke ran her fingertip across his jaw and leaned her forehead against his. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” he promised.

“Kane,” Murphy said and Bellamy and Clarke jerked away from each other.

Kane looked a little frantic, but Bellamy must not have noticed because he called him over. “Neither of you are working,” Kane said, glancing at Bellamy and then Raven.

“I wanted to talk to you, actually,” Bellamy said and Raven followed Miller to the other end of the bar while Murphy walked into the kitchen. Clarke stayed at his side, though—just without touching him until they told Kane.

“What’s up?” he asked, glancing quickly at Clarke and then his phone before finally focusing on Bellamy again.

“Clarke and I are…” he trailed off and looked at Clarke. “Maybe we should have talked about this a little more before we did this?”

“Maybe,” she laughed. They had _no_ idea what they were.

“They’re dating!” Raven called through the empty bar and Kane looked between them.

“If this is dating,” Clarke said, waving her hand between Bellamy and herself, “Then we’ve been _dating_ all summer.”

“Dating with benefits?” Bellamy pondered aloud and Clarke laughed—at the title, but also the look on Kane’s face.

“I’m happy for you kids,” he said, holding up a hand. “But I never want to hear about your benefits. Or see them. Keep it off the floor and out of my office.”

“I think we can arrange that,” Clarke promised and Bellamy nodded. Kane’s phone pinged with a text message and he read it before his face went pale and his jaw tightened.

“How about you head home, Clarke. It’s slow. I’m sure John won’t mind,” he said, though Murphy wasn’t there to speak up for himself. Not that Clarke minded. She wanted to get out of there. But she didn’t want to go _home_. She wanted to go to Bellamy’s.

“Are you sure?” she asked, just to be polite and make sure she was covering all of her bases.

“He’s sure,” Bellamy said, nudging her hip with his knee. “ _He’s sure_.”

“Okay,” Clarke laughed. “Are you, though?”

“Go home. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching for Bellamy’s hand. He was already on his feet. They walked through the bar and into the kitchen before Bellamy let go of her hand to cup both of her cheeks and kiss her. She laughed against his lips and pushed his chest. “Not in front of _the food,_ Bellamy.”

He let out a long whine, but took her hand again and started toward the breakroom. Monty and Jasper clapped from where they were working behind the line and she flipped them off over her shoulder.

“Oh, wait,” she said turning back toward the lounge and Bellamy whined again.

“What?”

“I forgot my phone charger behind the bar,” she said, tugging on his hand and he raced to fall into step beside her. He slipped his arm around her waist and sped them through the rest of the kitchen. Clarke laughed at his eagerness but let him lead her.

He pushed her through the door and she stopped at what she saw in front of her. “Clarke!”

Bellamy dropped his hands from her. Raven and Miller looked at her with pity in their eyes. And Kane’s head fell—in shame maybe, like he failed.

But Clarke’s mother stood strong and her gaze didn’t leave Clarke’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter may take a little longer, just because I want to get it right. And also because I am in need of some serious motivation.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s go,” she said, putting her backpack on. He grabbed one of the straps and pulled her closer.
> 
> “Are you moving in or something?” he asked her, voice low—only for her to hear. She tilted her head and smiled at him.
> 
> “You already told me I couldn’t do that,” she reminded him, putting her hands on his chest. “We’d kill each other remember?”
> 
> “Oh, Clarke,” he said, smiling slowly. “We have a lot to talk about.”
> 
> Or: The end. With feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so bad at endings. I hate writing them. I'm sorry in advance.

Time stopped. Her _mother_ was standing in front of her. In front of all of her friends. At _work_. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was. And Clarke didn’t know what to do. She _wanted_ to take Bellamy’s hand and drag him back through the kitchen. She _wanted_ to pretend that her mother had never stepped foot in the restaurant.

Neither was an option, unfortunately.

She could still taste Bellamy’s kiss in her mouth when she spoke and she used that to propel her—something to look forward to. Something good in her life that her mother couldn’t take away from her.

“Mom,” Clarke said finally. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She could also feel Bellamy’s presence behind her; it made her feel more confident. She didn’t want to be having this conversation at all, but she was glad he was around if she had to. “What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here, Clarke?” her mother asked. Thankfully, she wasn’t yelling. She was doing that very monotonous, threatening voice that got Clarke to clean her bedroom all the time when she was little, though. It was actually scarier.

“Where else would I be? You would have gotten a bill or some sort of letter in the mail if I re-enrolled at Yale,” Clarke reminded her. “But you’re never going to get that. I’m not going back.”

“So, what?” she asked and her voice is a little louder, but she still wasn’t yelling. It was enough to make Kane stand up straighter, like he was ready to take control of the situation if he had to, though “You’re going to stay here forever and work as a waitress?”

“Maybe.” Clarke didn’t want to be a waitress forever, but she also knew that there was no shame in being a waitress forever. If it made her that happy, what would it matter? “Maybe I’m doing exactly what I told you I’d be doing. _Maybe_ I’m trying to figure out what I want to do with my life instead of doing exactly what _you_ want me to do.”

“Maybe you’re wasting precious time.” Her mother was never one to beat around the bush. “Where are you even living?”

Answering directly was always safest, no matter how much Clarke knew her mother wouldn’t like the answers. “I’m staying with Monty and Jasper until Raven’s roommate moves out, then I’ll be moving in with her.”

Her mother looked to Raven who looked right back, completely unfazed by the death glare being sent her way. “Are you going to live couch to couch for the rest of your life?”

“Abby,” Kane said, his voice hard. Clarke actually felt bad for him. He’d been friends with her mother since she started dating her dad. Clarke asked for the job at Polaris knowing he’d give it to her thanks to Raven’s recommendation and his relationship with her parents. She put him in the middle of this. “Maybe you should take this somewhere more private.”

“Are you?” she asked Clarke again, ignoring Kane’s suggestion.

“The only reason I’m living on a couch now is because you kicked me out of the house without enough time to find somewhere else to live. My friends have been far more generous than you have in this situation and I am lucky to have them,” Clarke reminded her. It wasn’t often her mother looked shocked—the only time Clarke could remember was when she told her she was dropping out in the first place—but Abby Griffin definitely wasn’t expecting that from her daughter. “Now, if you want to talk to me, please don’t come into my place of work and bombard me in front of my coworkers. You know my phone number. And now you know where I’m staying. Please leave.”

She looked away from her mother and rested her elbows on the bar next to Raven instead. Her best friend smiled at her encouragingly and Clarke nodded in return. Her mother stood there a few moments longer until Kane said her name again and ushered her out through the dining room.

As soon as she was gone, Bellamy ran a strong, comforting hand down Clarke’s back and she smiled at him over her shoulder and leaned into his touch.

“That’s far from over, but at least this part is done,” she said and Miller nodded, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder.

Things with her mother were bad and it would be a long time until they were good, but she had her friends. She had Bellamy.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked, moving his hand to her hip and his chest against her back so he could lean into her ear. She tried to keep the shiver from running down her spine, but she couldn’t and could see the smirk on his face.

“Yes,” she told him, turning to face him. “Please.”

\--

Clarke paced around Monty and Jasper’s living room in a towel while she replayed the scene at Polaris. She’d told Bellamy she was going to go home, take a shower, and she’d call him before she headed for his place. But, she needed a little while to herself. She needed to breathe.

Dealing with her mother was always something she knew would have to happen eventually. It was something that she was putting off for as long as possible. It was still something she had to deal with, though, because nothing came out of the conversation at Polaris. The two Griffin women were too stubborn to be the first one to crack.

Clarke missed her mom, though. Even though their relationship had been strained for a long time, she was still her mother. She was still the one who’d chase away the monsters from under Clarke’s bed when she was little. She made the best chicken noodle soup when she was sick. And she always told Clarke that she was capable of anything. The problem was, the only thing worth being capable of—to her mother—was being a doctor.

She kind of wanted to call her mother and just keep talking—maybe keep yelling—at each other. But she also just wanted it to all go away for a little while longer. Clarke still needed to figure out who _Clarke_ wanted to be outside of what her mother always drilled into her. She wanted to have some semblance of an idea before she tried to go to her again.

She wanted to go back to school eventually. She just needed to figure out what she would go for. It would take some time. Her whole life she was told that she wanted to be a doctor, so when she realized that it was never _her_ dream, she had no idea what was. It had only been four months since she left school. She needed more time.

She kept pacing until she heard the front door creak open. Jasper walked in and groaned. “We had _one_ rule, Clarke,” he said. “Clothes in the common space.”

Monty pushed him inside, laughing, and Clarke sighed. She walked over to her bag in the corner and squatted down to pull out her clothes. By the time she stood up, the door was closing and she turned around for the bathroom, but stopped when she saw Bellamy smirking at her.

Smug bastard.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he said and she looked at the phone on her pillow. She didn’t hear it ring once in the two hours she’d been home. “And we got so sidetracked by your mom that you never grabbed your phone charger behind the bar. I figured it was dead.”

He walked toward her slowly and she was _very_ aware that she was only wearing a towel. “Hi,” she said when he was right in front of her—still smirking.

“Hey,” Bellamy said, looking down at her feet. She could swear that she saw the tips of his ears turning a little red. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out her phone charger and held it out for her, but she didn’t take it. She wouldn’t until he looked at her again.

He did—finally—when she cleared her throat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were _nervous_ ,” she teased, taking the charger from him with the hand not holding her clothes to her chest. Bellamy chuckled and tweaked a strand of her damp hair between his fingers.

“Clothes. Common space. Let’s go, Clarke,” Jasper called from the kitchen and she sighed.

“Can you plug in my phone while I go get changed?” she asked Bellamy and he nodded, taking the charger back. She kissed him on the cheek and lingered a few moments. “Thanks,” she whispered before brushing past him.

She didn’t look back as she walked into the bathroom, but she did catch a peek of him flipping Jasper off as she closed the door. She couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled out of her.

Her entire outlook on her day and the night to come changed the second she saw him by the door. She wasn’t thinking about her mom and what she had to deal with there. She was thinking about the way Bellamy’s eyes trailed over her body and how he went back to the restaurant to get her phone charger before bringing it over to her. She was thinking about how all she wanted to do was go back to his house and kiss him senseless and talk about what the hell they were doing. Because she _wanted_ to do whatever it was. She wanted to be with him.

So, Clarke changed quickly into the leggings and t-shirt she’d pulled out of her bag so she could do that. He was sitting on the couch with her pillow in his lap, watching Monty and Jasper playing a videogame, but he stood up as soon as she walked into the living room.

“Please tell me you want to come back to my place,” he said quickly and she laughed. “I can’t listen to their trash talk anymore. It’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I was gone for _two minutes_ ,” she said and he just widened his eyes and shook his head. “Okay. Let me grab a jacket.”

She went back to the corner where all of her clothes lived. She couldn’t wait until December so she could have a room and a dresser to put them in, but it worked for the moment. Like she told her mom, her friends were being more than generous in letting her and her shit stay there. And she was _really_ lucky to have them.

While she was grabbing a jacket, she decided to throw her work clothes and sneakers into her backpack so she had it for the next day. She grabbed her phone and charger and threw them both in the bag. She went back to the bathroom—while Monty and Jasper swore at each other and Bellamy groaned—to grab her toothbrush—so she didn’t need to worry about kissing with bad breath in the morning—and finally met Bellamy at the front door.

“Let’s go,” she said, putting her backpack on. He grabbed one of the straps and pulled her closer.

“Are you moving in or something?” he asked her, voice low—only for her to hear. She tilted her head and smiled at him.

“You already told me I couldn’t do that,” she reminded him, putting her hands on his chest. “We’d kill each other remember?”

“Oh, Clarke,” he said, smiling slowly. “We have _a lot_ to talk about.”

\--

“What do we have to talk about?” Clarke demanded when they entered Bellamy’s house. She’d asked him about ten times in the short drive over, but he’d just kept laughing and shaking his head. “Bellamy.”

He stopped in the middle of his living room and turned to look at her. “You honestly think—even now—that I didn’t want you to move in here because I was afraid _we’d kill each other_?” he asked, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her.

“That’s what you said, so yes. That’s what I think.”

“Clarke,” he said, laughing again. He was getting too much enjoyment out of her confusion. He reached for both of her backpack straps and pulled her into his body. “I didn’t want you to move in here because I didn’t want to be tortured for six months. I thought there was no chance this was ever going to happen, so I couldn’t live with you because it would kill _me_. I thought that, if you moved in and anything ever happened between us, it wouldn’t mean anything to you and it would ruin everything.”

_Oh_.

“Wait,” Clarke said, shuffling her feet. She put a hand on his chest and another on his cheek. “That was a long time ago. That was _three months ago_.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said simply. Clarke sighed and her fingers stroked the side of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into it and she really, really wanted to kiss him.

“When did you know you had feelings for me?” she asked instead and his eyes opened slowly.

“That night we drove to the high school and I showed you my old fort,” he told her and she felt her chest cave in with her shuttering breaths. “What about you?”

“That night we drove to the high school and you showed me your old fort.”

His smile brightened up his whole face—the whole room. But it didn’t last very long and Clarke’s own smile slipped from her face.

“Three months,” Bellamy said slowly, running a hand up her backpack strap, then her neck, until finally it was in her hair.

“Three months.”

She knew what he was getting at. If they had sucked it up and told each other three months ago, they could be three months into a relationship. They wouldn’t have wasted time fighting their feelings.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and she sighed, letting her head fall against his chest.

“I just didn’t think you would feel the same way. And I didn’t want to tell you and make it awkward and ruin everything. I liked who we were these past three months. Even the month before when you kind of hated me. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“I know what you mean,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. She looked up at him and they both sighed. “And I was afraid that when you and your mom finally talked again, you’d realize that maybe you did want to go back to Yale. And I didn’t want to have you and then lose you.”

“I’m not going back,” she promised and he sighed again, but this time it was a strangled sigh. Like he was in pain. She knew how he felt about her going back to school. He wanted her to, but it seemed like he thought that meant she’d be going back to Yale. Or Harvard. He seemed pretty dead set on Harvard. “I mean, I will go back to school at some point. But I’m not going to Yale. I’m not going to go too far. My life is here.”

That set him more at ease, and she smiled. He didn’t want to lose her. She couldn’t stop smiling.

“You _like_ me,” she teased and he rolled his eyes, dropping his hands from her body. He stepped away from her and she followed him into his bedroom where she dropped her bag on the floor. Bellamy continued to his bed and sat on the edge, kicking his shoes across the room.

Clarke slipped off her boots and socks and climbed around him to lay down. Bellamy laid down next to her and reached for her waist, bunching her t-shirt in his hand. “I like you,” he admitted and she smiled, shuffling closer to him.

“I like you, too, dummy,” she told him and he looked in her eyes long and hard before looking down to her lips. “I’ll like you more if you do something about it,” she whispered, eyes focused on his lips, too.

A quick smile flashed over his features before he rolled her onto her back and covered her mouth with his. She responded immediately by kissing him back and wrapping a leg around his waist to pull him closer.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but it felt even more monumental. It was perfect. His weight was pressing her into the mattress and his hands were under her shirt. His hair was wrapped around her fingers and when she tugged on it, he moaned into her mouth and moved against her and everything went black for a second.

She needed more. She needed to feel his skin against hers. She needed him inside her. She _needed_ him.

“Wait,” Bellamy said, trying to roll off of her. Clarke just wrapped both legs around him even tighter and he laughed into her neck. “Clarke.”

His breath was ragged and he immediately kissed the skin of her neck, like he couldn’t stop himself. But he was also actively trying to wriggle away from Clarke.

“Bellamy,” she said—whined, really—and he groaned against her neck, but finally reached around him to unwind her leg so he could roll over to the other side of the bed. “What?”

“Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom? I know that was a lot and you just bailed in the parking lot,” he said and she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “I want to be the one you talk to about this shit. Or, at least, one of the people. If that’s what you want from this,” he said, waving a hand between them. “And if you do, it needs to happen before this goes any further.”

Clarke laughed and Bellamy sat up so he was in front of her and she crossed her legs between them, mirroring his position. “I want you to be that person, too,” she told him and he smiled slightly. “But I don’t even know where to begin with what happened at Polaris or what, exactly my future entails.”

Bellamy nodded and she believed that he really did understand what she meant. He had already been the one person she talked to this summer about most things. He knew what was going through her mind. He looked contemplative for a few seconds before he reached out and squeezed her knee.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” He asked her and she laughed, making him smile. He squeezed her knee again, though, and she knew that he expected an answer.

Clarke thought about it and her mind reeled with all the same thoughts that had set her pacing back at Monty and Jasper’s. So, she said the only thing she _knew_ to be true. “Happy.”

Bellamy didn’t even hesitate before rolling onto his knees and taking Clarke’s face in his hands. “I fucking love you,” he told her before kissing her hard. She was so shocked at the admission and the quick kiss that she didn’t get a chance to respond before he was sitting again, breathing hard. “Shit. I didn’t mean- I shouldn’t have said that.”

Clarke nodded, but she didn’t know what exactly she was agreeing to. “You didn’t mean it?” she asked, breathless herself, because… she had no idea what the hell was happening. But her heart was racing and she knew that she _wanted_ him to mean it.

“I did,” he admitted with such conviction, but he was looking down at his hands. This time, Clarke squeezed his knee and he looked up at her again. “But, you know, it’s been twelve hours since I first kissed you and that’s just a lot of information in one day. Not to mention everything else you’ve had to deal with today. I could have chosen a better time.”

“No, that was pretty good,” Clarke said, laughing. It was pretty perfect, actually. Bellamy nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Because I think you’ll play a pretty major role in making me happy. It’s good to know you’re invested.”

His smile was slow, but huge, and Clarke laughed again. “Yeah?” he asked quietly, like he couldn’t quite believe anything that was happening.

“Oh, yeah,” she promised and she leaned toward him and fisted his shirt in her hand, pulling him closer. “I have been falling in love with you for three months and it’s pretty to safe to say that I stopped falling the second you kissed me this morning.”

Bellamy kissed her again and she was ready for it, so she made it easy for him to lay her back into the mattress. It was like each kiss was better and meant more than the last and she never wanted this one to end.

“Hey, Bell,” she said, when his lips roved over her neck.

“Hmm?” he hummed and she could feel it against her throat and she sighed, tightening her fingers in his hair.

“I’m going to need you to take off your shirt,” she breathed and he stopped kissing her and lifted his head to smirk at her. “And don’t look at me like that. You know what you’ve been doing to me all summer.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he lied and she pushed against his shoulders until he was on his knees. He ripped the shirt over his head and she scooted back to sit up and looked at his face before her eyes fell to his chest and his _abs._

“When do you even have time to work out?” she asked, running both hands down his torso until her fingers wrapped around the top of his shorts. She heard his sharp intake of breath and looked up at him again.

“Mornings,” he said and his breathing was ragged. “Weights and treadmill in the basement.”

Clarke nodded and pulled him back on top of her. She ran her hands down his back and his pushed her shirt up to her bra. “Come on now,” he said, nipping her earlobe. “Fair is fair.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was happy to oblige as he rolled off of her. While she pulled off her shirt, he pulled off his socks and they both tossed them aimlessly across his room.

“Fuck,” he breathed when he looked at her and she reached behind her to unhook her bra. She smirked at him when she pulled the straps down her arms and his eyes blew out. “Well, those are fucking perfect.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I grew them myself.”

He barked out a dry laugh and rubbed his palm over the shadow of scruff on his cheek. “We don’t have to go any further than this, you know,” he said, but he was still looking at her breasts and Clarke crawled over his lap so she was straddling him.

“I have been so hard up this summer,” she told him. “ _For you_.”

“Oh, thank god,” he said, surging up to kiss her. His hands reached between them and she moaned into his mouth when they covered her breasts. She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her hips against his and he actually growled against her neck. He nudged her a little so she got the point and rolled off of him and onto her back.

Bellamy was over her in a second, lowering his mouth to one breast while his hand continued to work the other one. Clarke’s eyes squeezed shut and her hand covered his while his name spilled through her breaths.

She shifted just slightly so one of Bellamy’s legs was between both of hers and she rubbed herself against him. She needed the friction, but it caused his tongue to still against her nipple and she whined, rubbing harder against his thigh.

“Off,” he grunted, lifting up enough to get a hold of her leggings. Clarke lifted her ass off of the bed and allowed him to pull them off and he let out an audible whine when he saw she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She was wet before, but when he looked her over and licked his lips, she was drenched. “Fucking perfect.”

“Off,” Clarke said, nodding at his pants and she got the button open and zipper down enough for her to pull them off. She rolled them over again so she was on top and palmed his erection that was still encased by his boxers.

He smirked up at her, but his breathing was irregular and his chest was heaving. She pulled the top of his boxers down enough for him to spring free and her eyes went wide and her mouth went dry. She pulled them the rest of the way off before laying down and pulling him on top of her.

“I’m really happy we’re doing this,” she said, spreading her legs for him to fit between her thighs.

“You have no idea,” he promised. He trailed his eyes over her naked body and smiled before his eyes met hers again. She nodded and he slid inside of her.

\--

The next morning, Bellamy dragged her into his shower and she came twice before a speck of soap hit her body. She knew, without a doubt, that she was really going to enjoy “dating with benefits.” She already was.

After they dried off and got dressed for work, Bellamy dragged Clarke into the kitchen. “Remember that party where you asked me to stay over?” she asked him as she pushed herself to sit on the counter—exactly where she’d been sitting at that party.

“You mean that time you wouldn’t stop playing with my hair?” he countered, looking at her over his shoulder from where he stood at the fridge. Clarke shrugged innocently and he shook his head before ducking down to pull out a carton of eggs and the milk. “Drunk Bellamy wasn’t so afraid of what would happen if we hooked up.”

“Neither was drunk Clarke,” she promised and he nodded. “But I am glad we waited until we actually talked about it. I think we both would have been scared off if I woke up naked in your bed the next morning.”

Bellamy put the eggs and milk on the counter before stepping in front of Clarke and spreading her knees apart so he could stand between them. “Drunk Bellamy- well, no,” he said, shaking his head. His palms rode up her khaki clad thighs before he gripped her waist. “ _I_ was also trying to make a move on you before Wells could.”

Clarke couldn’t stop the laugh that poured from her and she immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said through her fingers, but Bellamy just shrugged—like he now knew why that was insane. “He’s like my brother.” Bellamy nodded and Clarke remembered how he’d acted before he’d gotten drunk that night. “You never had a reason to be jealous of Wells. You never will. Or of anyone, really. Turns out I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

“I’d never really _been_ jealous before that,” he said, resting his forehead on her chest. She ran a hand down the back of his head and he sighed against her before pushing up to press a kiss to her lips. “So, turns out I’m kind of obsessed with you, too.”

He kissed her again before moving away to make breakfast.

Clarke swung her legs back and forth while he scrambled eggs. He leaned over and nudged her with his elbow to get her attention and she smiled at him.

“Want to make some coffee?” he asked and she got excited and jumped off the counter. “I’ve got inventory and payroll to do before my bar shift starts at 2. What time are you working until?”

“I should be out by 7,” she told him, starting the coffee pot. She rested her hip against his side and waited for the coffee to finish. “So, I’ll probably need a ride to my car before work, if you don’t mind.”

“I think I can manage that,” Bellamy said with a kiss to her temple.

Clarke smiled to herself, just ridiculously happy. It was what she’d wanted all summer—being there with Bellamy, casual kisses, and reciprocated feelings. It felt so domestic to be there with him—making breakfast after getting ready for work together. She loved it.

“You know,” Bellamy started and Clarke looked over at him, but he didn’t seem to plan on finishing his thought, so she nudged him with her elbow. He looked almost stunned while he shut off the stove and poured the eggs onto two plates.

“Bellamy,” she said when he still didn’t continue.

“I was just going to say,” he started again, turning toward her. Clarke heard the coffee stop dripping into the pot, but was focused on the nervous look on Bellamy’s face more than her need of caffeine. “You should move in here, after all. I mean, we’re already sleeping together and you’ll probably be spending a good amount of time here anyway, so why not move your shit into Octavia’s room and… stay with me?”

Clarke’ breath caught in her throat and she took a step back. Bellamy caught the slight movement and his face fell and she realized what she’d just done and stepped even closer to him than before. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the dimple in his chin.

“We’ve been dating for, like, twenty-three hours,” she reminded him and he just nodded. “And we were both afraid what would happen to our friendship if I moved in three months ago. I really don’t want to know what could happen to our relationship if I move in after a day.”

Bellamy considered her and her words before reaching up to take her face in his hands. “I’m not really worried,” he admitted. “I get what you’re saying, but I’ve wanted you in my house since the beginning of the summer and in my bed since you stayed here last month and I knew what it felt like to wake up pressed against you.”

“I didn’t know that you woke up pressed against me. I’m kind of bummed I missed out on that,” she said him and he smirked before kissing her. “I made a promise to Raven to move in with her in December. I _want_ to keep that promise. I want to live there and have my own space,” she told him and he nodded solemnly. “But I _really_ don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re probably right,” he conceded and she pushed up to kiss him again—because she could and she wanted to.

“But, don’t get me wrong, I’m going to be here _all of the time_. You have a _bed_. A real bed, Bellamy. That’s better than gold as far as I’m concerned. It’s a bed. Not a couch. A _bed_.”

Bellamy laughed and shook his head, looking at her through his eye lashes and she smiled. “My bed sounds more important to you than me.”

“So much more important,” she lied. “You’re going to get sick of me.”

“Impossible,” Bellamy promised.

\--

That night, when Clarke got to Bellamy’s, all of her friends were waiting in the living room. It was late and most of them had come from the restaurant and were still in their uniforms, but Bellamy was resting against the back wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest, in nothing but a pair of boxers.

“What is going on?” Clarke asked, closing the door behind her slowly. She looked at Bellamy who just shook his head before looking at Raven for an answer.

“It was really busy tonight,” she said and Clarke nodded. It’d been so busy that she didn’t leave work until after 8 and she only left then because Kane was worried about her working overtime. “So no one got to talk to you.”

“About what?” Clarke asked carefully. “We have a group chat, don’t we? Wouldn’t that have worked? It’s midnight.”

“And, yet,” Miller said, sitting up in his seat, “here you are.”

Clarke glared at him before glancing up at Bellamy again. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, but remained silent. “Well, Bellamy invited me here, so I came,” she said and Raven smirked up at her choice of words. “Oh my god! Grow up.”

Raven laughed and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “So, you’re together? It’s official?” she asked and Clarke nodded. “Good. That’s what we thought. Which is why we need to have a party.”

“Tonight,” Jasper said, standing up. “Right now.”

“Bellamy is half naked,” Clarke reminded them. “Half of us have to work that baby shower brunch in the morning. You really want to have a party _now?”_

“A lot of us have been waiting for this to happen all summer,” Miller said, glancing between Clarke and Bellamy.

“But not _all_ of us,” Jasper piped in, sounding a little annoyed. Clarke realized that he was the only one she hadn’t really talked to about her feelings for Bellamy. She was pretty sure that he’d known all along, but he still seemed annoyed that no one had confided in him.

“Everyone but Jasper has been _very_ understanding listening to the two of you go on and on about why you couldn’t be together for three months,” Raven said then and Clarke leaned her shoulders against the door and sighed. She knew she wasn’t going to get out of it.

“Funny how none of you told us the other one felt the same way and we could have put this to rest months ago,” Bellamy mentioned and Clarke smiled at him slightly from across the room.

“To be fair, you both had valid points,” Raven told him, turning in her seat to look at him. “And you’re both adults that know how to have adult conversations. It is not _our_ fault that it took so long to just do it.”

“And I think we’ve all been very good friends to both of you,” Monty said to Clarke who just nodded. He was right. They’d been _very_ good friends and great listeners. And they were all pretty supportive when it came to getting her to tell Bellamy how she felt. She chose not to listen. “So, Miller and Raven stopped at the liquor store before work and I stopped at the grocery store on the way over and got three different frozen pizzas and a bunch of chips, like three minutes before they closed.”

“So, now we’re going to celebrate you two idiots finally getting your heads out of your asses,” Raven finished, standing up with a flourish. “Go put a shirt on, Bellamy.”

“This is _my_ house,” he reminded them, but there wasn’t much conviction in his statement. He knew they were going to have a party and that it would be fun. So did Clarke.

“Clothes in the common space, Bellamy,” Clarke said, mimicking the rule from her own house and Jasper smiled at her proudly. “Come on.”

She pushed herself off of the door and Bellamy met her at the end of the hallway so they could walk to his room together. He put his hand on the small of her back as she walked inside and closed the door behind them when they were alone.

“Are you okay with this?” Clarke asked him while he rifled through his drawers for a shirt.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at her over his shoulder. “And I’m not surprised. Are you? I’ll make them leave.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him and he nodded, taking out a long-sleeved thermal shirt. Clarke walked over to him as he put it on and kissed him as soon as his head was free. Bellamy reached for her hips and pulled her against his chest and kissed her again. She sighed against his lips and hugged his waist.

She was about to open her mouth when his tongue brushed over her lips, but the pounding on the door stopped them both and Bellamy groaned.

“We’ll be right out!” he called, letting go of Clarke so he could grab a pair of jeans off the top of his hamper. “I don’t know why we have friends, in the first place.”

“I can _hear_ you,” Jasper called from outside the door.

“I _know_ ,” Bellamy responded, smiling at Clarke. She covered her laugh with her hand and Bellamy dropped a lingering kiss between her brows. “Hey, if I get drunk and profess my love for you, don’t freak out, okay?”

“Okay,” she laughed. “How about I just profess my love for you now and just get it out of the way?”

“Yeah, go for it,” Bellamy said, standing up straight and crossing his arms—like he was preparing himself for a secret. He was a nerd and she _loved_ him.

“I love you.”

He smiled so bright, anyone would think it was the first time they’d admitted it to each other. “Hey, I love you, too.”

“They’re _in love!_ ” Jasper called down the hall and Clarke could vaguely hear her friends’ cheers from the living room. She and Bellamy both rolled their eyes, but couldn’t stop smiling. When they heard Jasper’s footsteps leading him away from the door, Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand.

“Do you think we can get them out of here by 2?” Bellamy asked, glancing at the door. Clarke shrugged and he sighed. “We both have to work that stupid brunch in the morning.”

“Which means the sooner they leave, the better,” Clarke said and Bellamy nodded enthusiastically. “Or, we can just have sex now and let them deal with it.”

“I like the way you think,” Bellamy said, looking like he was actually considering it.

“Bellamy, I was joking!”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging on her hand. “The louder, the better, too. Really make them regret coming over here uninvited.”

“Technically, I think Miller invited everyone else,” she said.

“Shit, you’re right,” he sighed. “Wait! That makes this Miller’s fault. Let’s get him back for having sex in my bed and just go next door and do it on his.”

“No! Let’s go get some drinks, get super touchy and mushy and just make everyone so uncomfortable they’re forced to leave,” Clarke countered and Bellamy laughed before kissing her.

“Touchy and mushy,” he said, kissing her again. “I can do that.”

“We were born to make people uncomfortable with our love and PDA.”

“This is going to be fun. You and me, I mean. This is going to be good.”

“Hey,” Clarke said, leaning into him, like she was telling him a secret. “I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be planning a epilogue, so maybe you'll see more of this. Or maybe I'll forget about it as soon as I get another idea in my head. Who knows? Surely not me.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


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